


Altered

by GameCake



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Anal Sex, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Barista Derek, Confessions, Derek Cooks, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Happy Derek, Happy Ending, Happy Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Cooks, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, also fuck tw, because this was written almost a year ago, but derek is the best cook™, everything is great until it goes to shit, stiles gets harsh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9857015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GameCake/pseuds/GameCake
Summary: “Maybe I can try? My door gets stuck like that all the time, I’m pretty much a pro by now.” He offered, but didn’t wait for any kind of reply before he bent down and grabbed Derek’s keys. He placed the key in the lock and turned it slowly, yet firmly, to the right. Derek could swear he saw Stiles' s tattoos shifting with the motion but he ignored it, thinking that it was probably due to the dim light and the muscles that shifted when Stiles moved his fingers. And, of course, then the door opened easily and with an audible click.“How did you do that?” Erica asked.“I’m magic.” Stiles disappeared into his apartment.The group was motionless in stunned silence for a couple minutes.  “I told you!” Erica whisper-shouted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I wrote mostly last year, but I didn't upload till now for whatever reason. 
> 
> It basically contains all of my favorite AUs which include spark!Stiles, neighbors au, derek cooks au, tattooed!Stiles, barista!Derek, alive Hale family and getting together.
> 
> UPDATE: I HAVE A BETA NOW! [Jay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OceansAlliteration) is helping me now!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :D

Derek absolutely did  _not_ think about his new neighbor. He didn’t think about him or his pretty eyes at all. He did not think about the way his tattoos looked. He did not think about how intimidating and badass he could look, but how when he was around other people he looked like a high school jock. He didn’t think about how he liked to sing in the shower and how every Wednesday he cooked a traditional meal and then promptly headed out taking the enticing smell with him. He didn’t think about how  _he_  smelled. Really. He didn’t. It was probably his friends who did.

“What is that smell?” Erica moaned from his couch where she had draped herself in a comfortable sprawl, looking like she owned the place. “Is it coming from your sexy neighbor’s apartment? It is, isn’t it?” she exclaimed dreamily. “Please tell me we can go and meet him and then eat his food.” She said sitting up and nudging Boyd.

“I don’t think Boyd appreciates you calling other people sexy.” Derek replied while trying to look unconcerned. “Besides, I’m cooking.”

“Your food doesn’t smell this good.” Isaac stated. “It’s okay, though. At least you’re the best cook I know.”

“Thanks.” Derek deadpanned and Isaac shrugged. 

Derek probably needed new friends. 

 

After one week, Derek was 100% positive he needed new friends. 

Friends who didn’t ask too many questions. 

“Do you know his name yet, Derek?” Erica had asked while poking his thigh.

“Of course I do, he lives next door.” Derek had replied. And he’d hoped that she would have stopped asking questions. That wasn’t the case apparently. 

“How did I not know?” she’d squealed. “What’s his name?” 

Derek had let out a long suffering sigh and replied “Stiles”.

That might have been a mistake. 

“What kind of a name is that?” Isaac had asked judgementally. 

“Are you sure he said Stiles?” Erica had questioned eagerly.

“That’s his name.”  Derek stated shrugging.

Derek also needed friends that minded their own businesses.

“I don’t think he’s human.” Erica announced the following day, when they had all gathered at Derek’s place to watch a movie. “He could totally be a vampire.”

“No.” was all Derek was able to say.

“But Derek, think about it! He’s pale, his eyes shine! They do, don’t say you haven’t noticed, that color is 100% inhuman. He might as well  _glow_. And those tattoos… don’t get me started on those. Definitely a vampire.” She declared. 

“Erica, no.” Derek pleaded looking hopefully at Boyd, silently asking for help. Derek liked Boyd. He was quiet and he totally had his back. 

“I don’t think he’s a vampire.” Boyd said and Derek almost felt relieved. “I don’t think vampires can have tattoos. Wouldn’t they heal? And what about his heartbeat? Vampires are dead.” He added then. Derek takes it back. He doesn’t like Boyd. Boyd is a traitor. 

“Maybe he just isn’t the Twilight kind of vampire.” Isaac posited looking bored.

“He isn’t the ‘Twilight kind of vampire’. He isn’t a vampire at all. Vampires don’t exist.” Derek said firmly.

“Says the werewolf.” Erica pointed out.

“There are no vampires.” Derek repeated, challenging Erica to contradict his statement. 

“Fine.” She decided after a few seconds of glaring. “That’s a pity.”

Silence followed and Derek was happy to go back to watching the movie. 

The silence, though, was short-lived. 

“Maybe he’s…a mermaid!” Erica suggested.

Derek’s groan was so dramatic they all started laughing, mocking his pain. 

By the second week, Erica had ruled out most every mythical creature that she could think of that possibly existed. 

“What about a kelpie?” 

“No.” 

“Maybe a Phoenix.”

“Erica.”

“A Sphinx?”

“Erica he is not a supernatural creature.” 

“Oh, Derek! He’s an angel! He looks angelic enough to me.”

“Erica! He is human!”

“So you say.” She said and winked at him. “Wait for it. You’ll see. He is not human, I can  _feel_ it.” She added. Derek started ignoring her then. “Be in denial all you want, but when the time comes you will know I was right! Just wait. If you find glitter, call me. Because that means he’s a fairy.” 

“Fae.” Boyd corrected from the kitchen. “The Fae would be insulted if you called them fairies.”

Derek ignored them both.

  

The next day, Derek found glitter. Too much glitter.

There was a fine trail leading from the elevator to the door next to his where Stiles stood soaked in glitter and muttering angrily under his breath. He was trying to unlock the door, but from the expression on his face -and the shaking of his hands- Derek surmised that he was vibrating so hard with rage he couldn’t find the right key.

When Stiles glanced up and noticed Derek, he looked embarrassed and apologetic. “Hi.” He said. “I’m sorry for the…glitter.” He added gritting his teeth. 

Before Derek could reply, the elevator doors opened and a red-haired girl appeared. She had big green eyes, stylish - probably tailored - clothes and walked like a model on a catwalk. She was quite stunning. “Come on, Stiles. It was just a joke, don’t tell me you didn’t like it” she laughed. 

Stiles did not look happy or impressed at all. For a moment during this exchange, Derek was fool enough to think that Erica was right. That Stiles was a fairy and this was his magical girlfriend. Then he shook himself. That was just stupid. 

“That was not funny.” Stiles snapped at her.

“Well, you crying glitter was.” The girl giggled. Stiles turned so red he might as well have steam coming out of his ears. The girl sobered up then. “I’m kidding. Okay, Stiles, I’m sorry. _We_ are sorry. It was wrong to do that. Come on, let’s go back.” 

“Lydia, I love you, but no. I’m going home. I know you didn’t mean any harm, but all I want right now is to shower and get all this glitter off me.” He said calmly as he finally managed to open the door. 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll go then. I’m sorry.” She - Lydia - said seriously.

“Thank you.” Stiles sighed and just like that Lydia left.

Derek watched her go quietly and then he realized that he shouldn’t have stayed to watch them fight.

“Sorry about that.” Stiles said catching his attention again. “I’ll clean up the glitter later.” He promised tiredly, politely waved at Derek, and closed his door without further conversation.

Of course, Derek ended up thinking about the exchange while he was running. And then he was thinking about it when he was making dinner. And even later, when he was lying awake in bed.

Erica  _couldn’t_  have been right. Stiles was definitely not a fairy. Or Fae. Or whatever they were called.

 

“You’re quiet today. Well, more quiet than usual.” Erica remarked the following day. “What is it? Have you been stalking your neighbor? Thinking about his mystical magical nature?” she teased.

“No…” Derek said. Erica smirked predatorily. Well, he was never really good at lying.

“Lie.” She countered, tilting her head.

“No.” Derek said firmly.

“Are you sure? Because your heartbeat is singing a different tune.”

“No, it isn’t.” Derek defended stubbornly. 

“Come on Der, tell me! Tell us! Tell us please, please, please” she begged. Derek didn’t reply to her annoying pleading.

“It was the glitter, right? I swear I saw glitter in the hallway. He is totally a fairy and I was totally right!” she exclaimed.

Derek winced. “I think his friends just pranked him.” Derek tried.

“But! Derek! The glitter! It’s obvious now!” she yelled happily. 

“Baby, don’t torture him.” Boyd said resting a hand on her thigh.

“I’m not torturing anyone. I’m _excited_ , because I was so right!” She smirked. “It’s Halloween in two weeks. Then it’s the annual party for the building. Everyone comes. If he dresses as a fairy, you’ll know. You will know I am right.” She assured him.

  

At the Halloween party, Stiles dressed up as a fairy. And he looked  _real_. And Derek didn’t mean the fairies in Disney movies, he meant an actual fairy, though a much manlier version ***. His clothes looked like the costume Peter Pan wore on _Once Upon A Time,_ but he also had wings. Really realistic wings. They were planted on his back somehow, and gave the illusion that they moved with him. He also had pointy ears, some kind of vine around his neck and  _glitter._  Even his tattoos seemed somehow in tune with his costume.

 

Erica, who was dressed up as Catwoman (“It was a bet, Derek. I have to dress up as every strong female character. Last year I was Wonder Woman, the year before that I was Black Widow, I  _had_  to be Catwoman this year!”), was delighted. “I told you, Derek, he is a fairy!” Derek actually face-palmed at that. 

“I bet that those are even his actual clothes. For when… you know, he leaves our world to go to the fairy realm!” she enthused.

“Fairy realm?” Derek questioned.

“Yes! The fairy realm. That’s where the fairies come from.” Isaac, who was dressed as a vampire, said smugly. 

“I am not having this conversation again.” Derek said and headed to the bar.

Boyd approached him in silence. He was dressed as Batman, because Erica had demanded that Boyd show his support and dress as Batman if she was going as Catwoman.

“Erica is overreacting.” He said sipping from his drink. 

“That’s an understatement. Stiles isn’t a fairy.” Derek rolled his eyes.

“Of course he’s not. He’s something else.” Boyd smirked.

“Not you too…” Derek groaned and shot him a betrayed look.

“Something else doesn’t have to mean something supernatural.” Boyd stated with a knowing look and turned his gaze to Stiles who was a little ways away talking animatedly to his group of friends.

Next to Stiles was a boy who visited him quite often. His name was Scott, if Derek remembered right. He was dressed up as Aladdin, and he had his arm around the waist of an Asian girl who had elected to dress as Mulan. The red-head Derek had seen a few weeks ago - Lydia - was standing on Stiles other side, and was dressed as Poison Ivy. Next to her, was another girl, who was…Legolas? She definitely had the Elvish look from  _Lord of the Rings_  and had a very realistic wooden bow with her. Then to her left were two more guys, one dressed up as Arsenal from  _Arrow,_  and the other looked like a Hawaiian version of Captain America.

Derek got lost in thought after that and, somehow, Stiles appeared next to him. “Hey, neighbor!” Stiles shouted over the music. “Why so broody? And also, where’s your costume Grumpy?” he slurred, obviously having had a little too much of the crap beer somebody brought. 

Derek growled a little at the nickname but otherwise ignored it. “I’m wearing it.” 

“But what are you? This is how you dress daily, you look normal.”

"I’m a werewolf. They look normal.” Derek shrugged. 

“But… where are your fangs? Glowing eyes?” Stiles said poking at his face.

“I don’t need to buy fake fangs and contacts just for Halloween.”

“Well, you have a point there, but why even get fake ones when you already have the real deal?”  Stiles winked at him and before Derek could blink he disappeared in the crowd.

Derek stayed rooted to the spot, deep in thought, for a while after that. He wondered at how, just from joking, Stiles managed to reveal that he somehow knew Derek was a werewolf. And just what that said about his neighbor.

Boyd was right, Derek thought, Stiles  _is_  something else.

 

Later, Derek would realize that Stiles’ friend was a werewolf, as was the guy dressed like Arsenal. Later, he realized that they were a pack. Later, he realized that the Asian girl was some kind of fox. Later, he found out that the girl with the dimples who went as Legolas to the party was  _an actual hunter_.

He wasn’t sure if he was awed or terrified at the new-found information.

Derek came to the realization that Stiles probably figured out he was a werewolf because he himself was a member of a pack. It was a reasonable explanation that put him a little more at ease.

 

Later, Derek would stay up thinking about Stiles, and his pack, of course. He liked to think that he was interested in Stiles just because he seemed to know about his lupine nature out of nowhere. And if, later, he found himself thinking about Stiles in general...

Well, no one had to know anyway.

 

A month after the Halloween party, Laura visited. They went out and ended up calling Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, asking them to come along. They all watched a movie at the cinema and then had dinner at a nice restaurant. Everything was great, until they headed back to Derek’s apartment. Of course, something had to go wrong, and the lock got stuck. The door was decidedly not opening and Derek thought the lock was more than likely going to break if Erica pressed the key any harder into it.

“You are not allowed to break my door!” He yelled at her when she looked like she was getting ready to bodily force the door open. Erica pouted, but that didn’t stop Derek from grabbing his keys out of her hand.

“But, Der, we can’t stay out here!” Laura said.

“You break it, you pay for it.” Derek threatened in frustration.

Erica looked ready to reply, but someone cleared their throat. Derek startled so hard he dropped his keys. Stiles had somehow appeared behind the group of wolves without them noticing, and was studying them looking amused.

“Maybe I can try? My door gets stuck like that all the time, I’m pretty much a pro by now.” He offered, but didn’t wait for any kind of reply before he bent down and grabbed Derek’s keys. He examined them for a couple seconds before he found the one that was similar to his own. He placed the key in the lock and turned it slowly, yet firmly, to the right. Derek could swear he saw Stiles tattoos shifting with the motion but he ignored it, thinking that it was probably due to the dim light and the muscles that shifted when Stiles moved his fingers. And, of course, then the door opened easily and with an audible click.

“Wow. That looked so easy.” Erica said. “How did you do that?”

“I’m magic.” Stiles explained simply with a wide smirk. He waved at them and then disappeared into his apartment so fast that Derek had barely enough time to wave back.

The group was motionless in stunned silence for a couple minutes. Then Erica let out a happy squeal, a sound so high pitched Derek half expected his ears would start bleeding.

“I told you!” Erica whisper-shouted.

“He was probably joking.” Derek replied dismissively and ushered them all inside.

“Wait, who was that?” Laura asked. “Don’t tell me that  _that_  was Derek’s hot neighbor. Holy shit Erica, you were right.” She added with a dreamy smile. “Derek, when are you asking him out?” 

Derek promptly choked on his own spit and blushed furiously. Thank God he had stubble to help hide it.

He probably also needed a new older sister. He should take her back to their parent’s house and ask for another.

“I’m not,” he said.

“Come on, Derek, no need to be shy, we all know you want him.” Isaac said winking at him.

Derek stubbornly shook his head. “I don’t.” 

Laura looked at him devilishly. “ _You_ are lying little brother. It’s okay to like him.  _I_  like him!”

“I don’t like him!” Derek yelled.

Laura looked ready to reply, but stopped. She sighed, her face lost its teasing expression and she turned her attention back to their friends offering to order pizza.

 

 

Derek woke up on his couch. Everyone but Laura, who had Derek’s feet on her lap, was gone. She had one hand wrapped around his ankle and the other buried in a bowl of popcorn and was watching a random movie on TV.

“Hey, sleepyhead” she said when she noticed him stirring. 

Derek sat up straighter and looked at her tiredly. “What time is it?” 

Laura shrugged. “Last I checked, 2 am.” 

Derek hummed and stared at the TV in silence. His attention, though, was not on the movie. It was behind the wall, in Stiles apartment, where Stiles was snuffling and moving around in his sleep.

“It’s okay to want to be with someone, Der.” Laura said softly, bringing his attention back to her.

Derek sighed. “I don’t want to date him.”

“Der, even if I weren’t a werewolf I would be able to catch that lie.” She said gently with a small smile, Derek just glared back at her. “Just because you were unlucky in your previous relationships, doesn’t mean you’re going to be unlucky in this one too. From what Erica’s told me, he’s a decent guy. And you _are_ interested in him. Why don’t you give it a shot?”

“I don’t want to.”

Laura touched his shoulder comfortingly. “Derek, you know he’s not Paige. He is not Jennifer, nor is he Kate. He’s his own person.”

Laura’s words had quite an effect on Derek. Paige had been his fist girlfriend. They were young, but Derek had seen forever in her. They were good together and the days he got with her were a blessing for Derek’s younger self. But she had a heart condition. One day, while out on a date with Derek in the preserve, she had a heart attack. Just like that. And, just like that, Derek ran to the hospital with her, even though he had already heard her heart stopping. When they got there the doctors managed to stabilize her for a short while. But then her body just gave up, her heart not strong enough to keep beating despite their best efforts. That incident had scared young Derek to the point that he was _vulnerable_.

And that was how Kate found him a year later. She was the most beautiful and perfect distraction. All sweet words and kindness. Derek even got to the point where he was ready to tell her the truth about him being a werewolf. Kate told him that she knew and that she didn’t mind. And Derek believed her. So, when his mother found out about his relationship with a hunter, Derek defended her fiercely. He had been wrong, though. Kate had been psychotic. She’d been trying to get Derek to let her in the Hale house so she could kill off all the  _monsters_ _inside it_ _._

 

She had planned to burn his house down with all his family inside. And she would have succeeded if it weren’t for her brother who found about her plan and informed the Hale family.

 

“The Argents live by The Code”, he had said.

 

Thankfully, the Hales got out before anyone could be harmed, but their house was still a burned out wreck. The whole incident essentially forced them to move out of the preserve until it was rebuilt. When Derek confronted her, she had called him an abomination and laughed at him for actually thinking she liked him.

Derek had been devastated. It took him a long time - and a lot of one-night stands - to even consider dating again. And then even longer to open up to his next girlfriend, Jennifer. Jennifer was calm and nice. She had an innocent air about her and she knew how to make him forget. Sometimes it seemed like she had practically cast a spell on him. Then he’d found out it was quite a bit more literal. Turns out, she was a witch who had only wanted him because of his impressive appearance. She acted like she cared, like she loved him, but in truth she had cast a spell on him to cloud his judgement and make him vulnerable to her every wish. Her ultimate plan had been to get back her ex for cheating on her, when she was done, she threw Derek away like he was nothing.

Derek hadn’t tried going out with anyone since then.

“You can’t be alone forever, Derek.” Laura whispered.

“I’m not alone. Just because I’m not dating anyone doesn’t mean I’m alone.”

“You’re right, you don’t have to be lonely because you are alone. But Der, this is not how life works.” She said touching his check kindly, a touch so motherly that it made his heart clench both because he missed his mom and because he felt guilty that he hadn’t seen her in a while. “Please tell me you’ll at least give him a chance.” Laura pleaded. 

“I don’t know, Laur.” Derek sighed after a few silent seconds. “I’m scared.” He whispered so lowly she that she wouldn’t have been able to hear it if she weren’t a werewolf. 

Her eyes seemed to soften even more at the declaration and she pulled Derek into a tight hug. His nostrils filled with the scent of  _home, family, pack,_  and he couldn’t help but bury his nose in her throat, taking as much comfort from the embrace as he could. 

Moments like this one were rare. Derek didn’t open up much. If ever. After Paige’s death, he started keeping to himself. He had been just a step above depression at that point, but thankfully his family helped him a lot while he was getting through. But since then, and especially after Kate, he had put up an emotional wall. 

He didn’t talk about himself anymore. He didn’t share anymore.

“It’s okay. Everyone gets scared. But what if he is what you need? What if he makes you happy? Wouldn’t it be worth it then?” 

Derek shrugged, feeling like a small child. “I guess.” 

Laura smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “How about we go to sleep for now? What do you think of a puppy pile?” she urged him while she herself got up. 

Derek smiled back and snorted “It’s not a puppy pile if there are only two of us!”

“It is if I say so!” Laura stated and giggled. 

Though Derek would never admit it, he loved puppy piles. Laura probably knew anyway.

“I love you, baby bro.” she told him once they had curled up on Derek’s bed. 

“I love you too, Laur.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Derek still hadn’t taken Laura’s advice. With Laura gone back to their hometown, it didn’t matter anyway. 

Derek was walking to his apartment after his daily run, when he spotted Stiles. He was in front of his door resting his head on the wooden surface.

“Hey,” Derek greeted. Stiles startled so hard he jumped in surprise and then groaned. He looked worn out and pale. He was probably sick, Derek realised. After all, he _had_ heard him sneezing and coughing the last 2 days, plus his scent seemed off.

“Hi.” Stiles replied in a tired tone. 

Derek regarded him for a second. “Are you okay?” 

Stiles snorted. “I’m so not okay. I’m feverish, I have a running nose, a headache and I am _cold._ ” He said and pulled his jacket tighter around himself as if to emphasise his words. “I also managed to lock myself out. All I wanted was to take the trash out, but I forgot my keys inside. Now, I have no keys for my apartment, no car keys, no phone and I am so frustrated I could cry! Could this be worse?” he asked rhetorically and knocked his head on the door again. “I was in the process of revaluating my life choices before you decided to give me a heart attack.” 

“Sorry…” Derek said and almost winced at how awkward he sounded. “Why don’t you…” he started but paused for a second in a loss to how to continue. “Uh… come to my apartment? Maybe you can call someone from my phone?” he offered. 

“Really?” Stiles asked hopefully. 

Derek nodded and opened his door. He motioned Stiles to follow him inside and Stiles sighed in relief. Derek waved towards the couch and handed Stiles his phone. 

“Thank you.” Stiles said and began typing a number as soon as he had Derek’s mobile in his hands. 

Derek walked to the kitchen then, to give Stiles the privacy to make the call. He filled a glass of water for Stiles and when he returned to the living room he handed it to Stiles who took it gratefully. 

“Thanks. I called my dad, he is the only one that has spare keys for my apartment, but Tara answered. She told me he is on patrol and that she would tell him to call me back when he was available.” Stiles said. “I just told her to tell him to come by as soon as he can.” He added and stood up. “Thank you, for letting me use your phone but-“ he didn’t finish the sentence before Derek interrupted him. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Out? I am going to wait for my dad…” Stiles said looking confused. 

“You are sick,” Derek stated. 

“Yeah… your point?” 

“I can’t let you out there. You should stay here.” 

“Oh.” Stiles said considering the option. “I don’t want to bother you. You don’t have to-“ he started but yet again was interrupted. 

“You won’t bother me. I insist.” Derek asserted him. “Sit back down. I will be right back.” He added and headed to the closet with the blankets. He picked two of the warmest blankets and a spare pillow. 

When he returned to the living room, Stiles saw what he was carrying and protested with a weak “You don’t have to…”, but he was soon shushed by Derek who physically rearranged him on his couch. He put a pillow under Stiles’ head and covered him with the blankets before Stiles had enough time to politely deny his offer. 

“Are you comfortable?” he demanded.

“Very.” He claimed, looking like he was torn between glaring daggers at Derek and worshiping him. Derek nodded and stood up. “Where are you going?” Stiles wondered.

“I’ll be right back.” He responded and went back to the kitchen. He quickly cooked some soup, which he served into a bowl along with fresh bread and headed back to Stiles, who was drifting off. He placed the tray of food on the coffee table and put a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles stirred and fixed his eyes on the bowl. “You made me soup.” 

“I did.” Derek confirmed. 

Stiles smiled widely at him. “You are my new favourite!” he declared. When he lifted his upper body he winced and brought his hand to his forehead. 

“Are you in pain?” Derek asked worriedly. 

“Nah, just a headache. Comes with the fever. Don’t worry about it.” He dismissed and made grabby hands for the soup. Derek passed him the bowl and the spoon with the one hand and placed his other behind Stiles’ head. He had a moment of hesitation before he decided that he should help Stiles with his headache. He placed his open palm to his nape and began draining his pain. Stiles let the bowl on his lap carefully and moaned. Derek surely didn’t blush. “You have no idea how much I needed this. Hell, I didn’t either. Feels better than when Scott does it too.” He closed his eyes in satisfaction and leant on Derek’s hand. 

Derek shifted on the couch awkwardly without stopping taking Stiles’ pain. After a minute or so, a dull throbbing started in his forehead and Stiles’ patted his chest. “It’s okay, you can stop now.” He said relaxed. “I already feel much better. Thank you.” 

Derek nodded wordlessly and took his hand away, while Stiles simply went back to eating his soup. “The soup is actually really delicious.” 

“Thanks, it is my mum’s recipe.” 

“That’s nice. Do you cook a lot?” Stiles asked conversationally. 

“Yeah. Back at home, I would help my mum a lot in the kitchen. She taught me a lot. And then I worked part time as a chef.” Derek shrugged. 

“Wow. You should cook for me.” Stiles said nudging Derek playfully. 

Derek hummed. “Do you cook?” 

“Well, I used to. When my mum passed away, I was too young to know how to cook, but my dad was never good in the kitchen. I had to learn, I guess.” Stiles said with a nostalgic smile. “I tried a lot to cook like my mum used to. She loved cooking. She had written her own cookbook and when she died, I tried to learn every single recipe.” He looked at Derek. “I was never that good, though.” 

“Maybe I could help you.” Derek offered instantly. For a second he regretted his offer but then Stiles smiled at him. 

“I would like that.” He said. He opened his mouth to say more, but he found himself coughing. His cough was that violent, that if Derek hadn’t been there, the remaining soup would have been spilt on the floor. Derek placed the bowl aside and patted Stiles’ back gently. 

When he stopped coughing, he rested his head tiredly on the back of the couch. “That sucked.” He announced shivering. “Isn’t it weird to you?”

Derek frowned. “What thing?” 

“Sickness. You can’t get sick and, as a born wolf, you probably have never caught a cold. You are doing a good job taking care of the sick as of yet. Kudos.” Stiles assured. 

Derek looked at him sceptically. “How did you know?” 

“Know what?” Stiles inquired while wrapping the blankets around him tighter. 

“That I am a werewolf.” 

Stiles smirked. “You told me, remember? At the party.” 

“You knew before that.” 

“Well, if we ignore the fact that Scott was able to detect the scent of another werewolf, I can sense energies.” He shrugged like _sensing energies_ was the most natural thing. 

Derek wanted to ask. He really wanted to ask. If Erica were there she would ask. 

“Are you a fairy?” He blurted before he could stop himself. 

Stiles stared at him for a split second before he started laughing so hard, he earned himself another coughing fit. “Oh my god, don’t make me laugh again.” He groaned. “First of all, fairy? Really? It’s _fae_ mind you. You do know that it’s is insulting to call a fae fairy, right?” he asked. 

Derek stayed silent, feeling stupid. 

“Oh no, don’t go all moody on me. I’m sorry, I should have laughed this hard. No, I am not a _fae_.” He chuckled. “What made you think I was a fairy?” 

Derek scowled. “Erica. She was convinced you were some kind of mythical creature. I knew I should have believed her. She even though you could be a unicorn.” He groaned. 

Stiles smiled but it was not mocking. “You believed her anyway, though. Why?” 

Derek looked away embarrassed. “Because… It’s stupid. She told me that she would prove it to me. She said I would soon find glitter and the very next day you walked in soaked in glitter.” 

“That was a prank,” Stiles groaned. “A horrible one. Lydia was trying to convince me to wear an outfit so I would look good when we went at a club, and I said that I would prefer to be drowned in glitter. Jackson thought it would be funny to do exactly that.” 

Derek winced in sympathy. “If growing up with sisters and an immature uncle taught me anything, it would be that I should never say stuff like that.” He chuckled. “Once, Laura cooked me lunch and I told her that I would rather eat dirt than her food. Next thing I know, I am being chocked in dirt. Our parents were really mad.” 

Stiles smiled fondly.  “Well, as an only child, I never got any training in that department. I have learned from my mistake now.” He declared. “Seeing me in glitter can’t be the only reason why you thought I was a fairy, though.” 

“Erica was delighted to see you dressed as a fairy for Halloween. She thought your tattoos were magical. Also, you unstuck the door, you always appear out of nowhere, your wings looked real and your tattoos are always in tune with you. And your eyes. They are extraordinary, sometimes they look golden.” 

Stiles’ right eyebrow rose. “Was the last part Erica’s or your idea?”

Derek blushed and Stiles smirked. “Hers…” it was totally his. “Doesn’t matter.” 

Stiles smirked knowingly. “She was right about my tattoos. And the rest, I guess. My eyes are not magical, though. At least I don’t think they are.” 

Derek stared at him expectably. “Well? What are you?” 

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Stiles sighed as if he was bored. “I’m magic.” 

Derek waited for him to elaborate but Stiles didn’t seem like continuing talking. “That’s it?” 

Stiles frowned. “What else is there?” 

“Well, what can you do?” 

“Basically, practice magic. Spells and stuff. I’m practically Merlin. With the addition of the tattoos that I think he didn’t have.” 

Derek took a second to consider that. “Oh.” 

“Normally I would ask if you wanted to see me making a fireball, but since I am sick. My energy level is so low that I could pass out.” Stiles posted. 

Derek nodded. “You said your tattoos were magical. How?” 

“It’s kind of complicated. I started getting them at the age of fifteen, I inherited my spark from my mother, but since she died, there was no one to teach me and I had to spend a summer at my aunt’s house. I had my tattoos there. Basically, they are sensors for anything supernatural and a sort of charger for my power. They help me anchor my power and multiply its effect. People like me, can hide their tattoos, or at least make them unnoticeable, but I like them. They connect me to nature and the world around me.” He smiled and traced the tattoo visible on his wrist. “That is why they are dull now. My body is using up all the energy to fight the cold.” He shivered a little and pulled the blanket up to his chin. 

Derek had noticed. “Maybe you should lie down.” He said and stood up. Stiles nodded and did as he was told. 

Derek took the forgotten tray of food and placed them in the sink with a small smile. Talking with Stiles had been nice. Interacting with Stiles was easy and made Derek feel calm and happy. 

Maybe Laura was right in the end.

 

 

When Derek re-entered the living room, Stiles was asleep. For a few seconds he looked around to find something to do, but then he heard someone knock on Stiles’ door. As if on cue, Stiles’ mobile, from somewhere in his apartment started ringing. 

That must be Stiles’ father then. Derek was unsure on how to proceed, so he decided to just open his door. The Sheriff was standing outside of Stiles’ door glaring down at his phone in his hands. “Uhh…” Derek started. “Excuse me, sir.” He added carefully. 

The Sheriff looked up. “Oh. Hello.” He didn’t look much like his son. He had fairer hair and way paler eyes. Although the appearance wasn’t similar, the body language was the same, the Sheriff stood and carried himself like his son did. Only with a little more grace. 

“Hello, I’m Derek.” He said giving him his hand. The Sheriff shook it curiously. “If you are looking for Stiles, he is inside. He managed to lock himself out and since he was sick, I offered to take him in.” Derek said nervously. 

The Sheriff’s gaze softened. “Oh, that was very kind of you. Thank you for not letting him outside.” He thanked awkwardly. 

“You can come in, if you want. He is sleeping on the couch.” 

The Sheriff shook his head politely. “Thank you for the invitation, but I am not officially out of work. I have a double shift tonight, and I can’t stay.” He said and hesitated. “If it’s not a problem, could you please keep an eye on him when I am gone?” 

“Of course.” Derek agreed. 

Stiles’ father sighed in relief and handed Derek a pair of keys. “These are the keys to his apartment. When he wakes up, give them to him.” 

“I will, sir.” Derek assured him. 

“Call me John.” The Sheriff- John- told him. “Thank you again, Derek, but I have to head back to the station.” 

“Yes, of course.” Derek repeated and the Sheriff left. 

After that, Derek didn’t know what to do with himself. He stared at Stiles’ peaceful sleepy form and felt content. Stiles was looked nice and warm. Derek felt an unexpected satisfaction at the knowledge that Stiles was warm and protected and most importantly smelt like Derek. 

When he realised he was staring like a total creep, he shook his head and ended up sitting in the armchair next to Stiles’ head and reading one of the books he had in his bookcase. 

Derek had reached almost the first third of the book when Stiles awoke. He scanned his surroundings in confusion and when he noticed Derek, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. If Derek was honest with himself, he would admit that he found the action absolutely adorable. But Derek certainly wasn’t thinking about that. 

“Hey.” Stiles said lowly. “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Left door in the hallway.” Derek said and then returned to his book. 

Stiles muttered a ‘thank you’ under his breath and left the room. When he came back, he reclaimed his position on Derek’s couch. He shivered and wrapped the blankets around him. “I hate being sick. I hate fevers. I hate everything. You are unaware of how lucky you are just because you can’t catch a cold.”

Derek shrugged and passed the remote control to Stiles, knowing first-hand how much Stiles liked TV. Stiles took it gratefully and began zapping through the channels. When he found something he liked, he placed the control on the coffee table and began fidgeting a little. “Can I ask you something?”

“You are already asking.” Derek said raising an eyebrow. 

Stiles snorted ad rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” He said smiling, but then he got serious again. “Why are you helping me? I mean… you opened up to me pretty fast – not that I don’t like or appreciate it- but… I’m part of another pack. Doesn’t that bother you?” Derek frowned. He hadn’t thought about that. His wolf had been perfectly content around Stiles and didn’t seem to care that Stiles smelled like another pack. “Isn’t your wolf part threatened?” Stiles continued cautiously like he was both curious and afraid of Derek’s response. 

“I like having you here.” Derek frowned further. “I don’t feel threatened.” He added and hoped Stiles would drop it, because, truth is? He is very confused himself. This isn’t right. He is not supposed to feel this comfortable with a member of another pack that his pack is not even allied with. His wolf should be territorial not hanging around with a mage. And yet, merely a few hours ago, he felt protective of Stiles.

“Huh…” Stiles said, obviously sensing Derek’s discomfort. He turned his attention to his hands and traced his tattoos with his fingertips. After a few tense seconds, he spoke up again. “Did my dad stop by?”

Derek almost let a sigh of relief at the change of subject. “Yes”

Stiles sat up straighter. “What? When?” 

Derek shrugged. “Two hours ago, I guess.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were asleep, your father told me not to wake you.”

“Oh.” Stiles said. “That was nice.”

“He left your keys.” 

“Oh.” Stiles repeated and stood still for a second. “I’d better go then. I think I overstayed my welcome.”

Derek wasn’t really a fan of that idea. He didn’t want Stiles to go, but he also couldn’t keep him there. “Your dad asked me to watch over you.” He said.

Stiles groaned. “Of course he did.” He stood up. “Feel free to ignore him. I am very fine, thanks!” he said and began walking towards the door until he stopped because he almost lost his balance for seemingly no reason.

Derek got up fast to steady him. “You don’t look very good.” He posted and touched Stiles’ forehead. “You are very hot.” 

Stiles snorted. “Not the best time to admit that you find me attractive, dude.” He said teasingly, but he looked pained and too pale. 

“Stiles, I am serious.” Derek growled and moved closer to the couch, half carrying Stiles’ there. 

“This is unnecessary!” Stiles protested. “I’m okay, I just got a little dizzy.” 

“You are not okay. I am not letting you leave like that.” 

Stiles pouted. “This is kidnapping!” he exclaimed. 

“No, it isn’t!” Derek almost yelled and then took a calming breath. “What if you get dizzy again, when you are alone in your apartment? What happens if you fall down and get yourself a concussion?” 

Stiles regarded him for a second and then huffed an annoyed breath. “ _Fine_ , mama-bear, I will stay.” He exaggerated crossing his arms. 

Derek didn’t bother to reply and waved to the direction of the blankets. Stiles understood what he meant and wrapped the blankets around him again with a scowl. 

“I don’t even understand why I can’t go home, it’s not like I live too far.” He whined stubbornly. 

Derek just glared. 

Stiles knitted his eyebrows in an attempt to look intimidating, he failed, of course, between his pout, his ruffled hair and the stubborn look, he looked like an annoyed kid. “I could call someone from my pack.” He decided with a smirk. 

Derek raised an eyebrow. “What time do they finish work?” 

Stiles winced his posture changing. “Late? Scott has a night shift, Kira went to New York and Allison at France, and Lydia has to go somewhere with Jackson.” He muttered averting his eyes annoyed with the situation. 

Derek smirked smugly. “Then, you will have to stay here.” 

Stiles groaned. “Can I, at least, go fetch my phone?” 

Derek narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Derek!” Stiles pouted. “Come on, please.” 

Derek unfortunately, couldn’t deny the puppy-eyed look Stiles gave him after that plea. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Where did you last leave it?” 

“What, you think you are going to get it yourself?” Derek stared at him. “You know, it’s impolite to invite yourself to someone else’s house, right?” 

“Where did you leave it?”

Silence.

“Okay, it was on my nightstand.”

Derek didn’t bother to respond. He took Stiles’ keys and marched into his neighbour’s apartment.

 

 

Stiles didn’t really speak to Derek until dinner. He texted a few people and played some games on his phone. At some point during his stay, he kidnapped Derek’s mobile and downloaded Snapchat, something that Derek had no idea what meant. He said he sent ‘snaps’ to Derek’s friends. Derek feared that whatever he did, was sent to Erica too.

“Dude, you need to update your Facebook profile.” Stiles said when Derek was tidying the living room. “Maybe you should use this one as your new profile pic.” He added and turned the phone to Derek, showing him a photo –one which Derek didn’t know he had in his gallery. 

Derek shrugged and went to the kitchen to check whether dinner was ready. When he was sure it was done, he set the table. If he used the nicer plates and table cloth, then no one has to know. He helped Stiles and one of the blankets move to the kitchen and they ate together. Stiles told him that he updated Derek’s profile, that his friends texted him and that Erica seemed very nice. Derek wasn’t sure if he believed the latest statement. 

Stiles complimented Derek’s dish again and rambled about how his friends were useless in the kitchen, but Melissa was too good. 

Derek tucked him to his couch again after dinner. Stiles was out with a content sigh, almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. 

 

At night, Derek would wake him up every two or three hours to check his temperature and give him his medicine, the ones that Stiles insisted that he needed right after Derek gave him his phone earlier that day. He didn’t know much about human sickness, so he sneaked some glances to his phone, searching for guidance, when Stiles wasn’t looking.

Derek didn’t sleep that night, but it was okay. It felt right to care for Stiles and to stay up for him in order to get him feel better.

He didn’t like the fact that Stiles was sick and his scent was off, but he did enjoy caring for him. 

If Stiles wasn’t sleeping peacefully on his couch, Derek might have freaked out by the amount of the attachment he feels for the human –mage?- but Stiles was there and Derek couldn’t focus on that.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, they had breakfast together and then watched some TV. Around lunch time, Stiles’ dad came back to take Stiles back to his apartment. They both thanked Derek for his hospitality and left. 

The apartment was too quiet after that. Too still. Too empty. Sure, Derek could listen to Stiles’ every move next door –which is not as creepy as it sounds, no one cares if Derek’s friends disagree- but Derek still felt… too alone. 

He hadn’t felt like this since he first left his home for college, which is not really a good comparison, since his house was full of pack members, not occupied by one certain mage. Derek wasn’t ready to think what that meant. 

Of course, he went for a run. Just to clear his mind and his confused thoughts. 

When he returned home, he found out that after his run the apartment felt even emptier. 

Well, denial is a thing.

  

 

Two days later when Derek was at work, his mobile got a notification. He was never much of a tech geek, so his mobile only had the basic apps every phone had. The yellow icon with the little ghost was unknown to him. Apparently, that was Snapchat. He clicked on it and found a photo of Stiles at an office looking equal parts of bored and tired, along with the caption ‘They made me go to work :(’.

Derek didn’t know what to do with that. Was he supposed to somehow send a picture back at Stiles? Reply with a message? Ignore him? What was the norm? 

Before he could decide, he received another photo of Stiles pouting with the caption ‘Don’t ignore me!” and multiple emojis. And then he received another two of Stiles realising that Derek might not know how to use the app and instructions on how to do so.

Several minutes later, Derek was confident that he knew how to use the app, so he took a picture of the coffee shop and send it to Stiles. Stiles’ reply was a message.

 _ Stiles _ _: Aww, are you at a coffee shop? Felt like going out with a hot date?_

Derek frowned his brows.

 _ Derek _ _: I work here_

_I’m on a break_

_If I was on a date, I wouldn’t be messaging you._

_ Stiles _ _: True._

_Where is the shop?_

Derek sent the address.

  _Derek _ _: It is a couple blocks away from home_

 _ Stiles _ _: Cool_ _:)_

 _ Derek _ _: Do you want to stop by on your break?_

 _ Stiles _ _: Can I? Yeah, sure, I will be there in 20_

Derek grinned at his phone. “Derek!” Erica shouted, “Break is over!” Derek sighed and went back to work. He soon lost track of time while making beverages for his customers.

Before he knew it, Stiles’ scent filled his nostrils. Derek’s senses zeroed in on Stiles who was just walking in. He was wearing a grey beanie along with a matching scarf. He had a warm black coat on, black jeans and a pair of white Converse. His nose was bright pink and his lips parted. His cheeks were almost as red as his nose and his brilliant eyes were scanning the room. When they settled on Derek, he smiled widely and Derek swore he had never looked upon someone so _pretty_. 

“You are a barista! Who knew?”

Derek shook himself and smiled back at Stiles. “What did you think I did for a living?” 

Stiles shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you worked at all, to be honest.”

Derek scowled, but didn’t have the time to reply before Erica raced to his side. “Stiles!” She exclaimed so loud Derek winced. “Hey! How are you? What are you doing here; I have never seen you around!” She demanded excitedly.

“Uh… I’m fine? Derek called me?” Stiles said uncertainly.

“You are so cute!” Erica squealed happily and punched Derek’s bicep for some unknown reason. “So tell me, what do you want?”

“Uh… a double cappuccino? Extra sweet?”

“On it!” Erica shouted and left to prepare the drink.

Derek stared after her for several seconds before turning his attention back to Stiles. 

“It’s a nice place here. To be honest, I wanted to come here before but I never did.  Guess that’ll have to change from now on.” Stiles said and shrugged.

“That’s… good” Derek replied awkwardly. 

“Well, don’t sound _so_ excited!” Stiles said in a teasing tone, but Derek sensed a hint of hesitation in his voice. 

“I mean it. You can come anytime” Derek tried to assure him but he probably failed, if Erica’s reaction was anything to go by. She exaggerated a face palm and came closer to hand Stiles’s cup of coffee to Derek. 

“Come on, Der. I have seen you flirt, you can do better.” She mumbled under her breath. She then patted Derek’s shoulder while saying louder “Tell Derek your toppings and all that!” and then she went to help the next customer. 

Stiles asked for both cinnamon and chocolate powder upon his coffee and Derek gave him one of the cupcakes on the display. 

“Oh! A cupcake. That’s nice. What flavour is it?” 

“Chocolate cake filled with caramel and hazelnut cream. Nutella icing. Try it.” Derek made a god ahead motion with his hand. 

Stiles eyed it with suspicion before he took a bite. Instantly, his eyes fluttered shut, his eyebrows rose in amazement and moaned. “This is like… the best cupcake I have ever tasted and I have tasted Melissa McCall’s cupcakes!” he said devouring the cupcake. 

Derek wasn’t sure whether he should be amused, aroused or disgusted. “Thanks.” He said.

Stiles paused and looked up. “You baked them?” 

Derek looked away shyly. “Yeah.”

Stiles’s entire face lit up. “Really? Wow, I wasn’t lying when I said it was the best cupcake I ever tasted. You need to teach me your ways of baking!” 

“Uh… it’s supposed to be a secret recipe…” Derek said uncomfortably, torn between grabbing the chance of spending time with Stiles by the hair, and feeling guilty, because it _was_ a secret recipe. His grandma had taught him and it used to be their “secret”, though he was pretty sure his mum knew how to bake the “Bestest cupcakes” too. 

Stiles hummed. “Then I guess you will have to bake for me every day! Bet your boss pays you a good amount of money for these.” 

Derek titles his head. “I don’t have a boss, I own the place.”

“Oh!” Stiles said. “That makes sense.”

“This is why, these are in the house.” Derek said and pointed to the empty cupcake cup Stiles was holding and the cup of coffee on the counter.

“Oh! Oh no! No, man that’s not cool… I mean, it is cool –so cool- but… I have to pay for this cupcake, it is a piece of art.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Just accept it.” Derek said. “Who says no to free coffee?” he smirked.

“That… I can’t argue with.” Stiles said thoughtfully. “Then… that is sad.” He added and at Derek’s questioning look he continued. “Now we are not even. Now I have to pay you back. How about I do this… on a date?”

Derek was taken aback and didn’t reply immediately.

“I know a good place. Trust me. You will love it, it has really nice food and stuff and it is fancy and everything! It’s okay if you don’t though… want to come I mean.” Stiles continued nervously.

“Okay.” Derek said quickly as soon as he processed it, to stop Stiles from his nervous ramble.

“Okay? Okay.” Stiles said and smiled. “How about Saturday? That would be nice… I can knock on your door or something and can go?” 

“Okay.” Derek said with a smile and Stiles let a relieved breath.

“Seven o’clock then!” he shouted and winked before he left.

 

 

Derek was _not_ panicking. He was not. He was perfectly collected and self-assured. He had worn a nice black button up, nice skinny black jeans and slightly fancy black shoes. Since he wasn’t sure where they would go he decided it wouldn’t hurt to dress up even if the place didn’t have a dress code. He had styled his hair and put on a perfume that smelled nice but not overwhelmingly so to cover his natural scent.

It was a while since his last date. Admittedly, he had never had a bad date, it was only later in a relationship that things got bad, but he was still nervous. Nervous enough to be pacing all around his living room trying not to listen in every Stiles’s move.

At 7:03 Derek was a step away before biting his nails anxiously. He was faintly regretting telling Erica to leave an hour ago. She had been persistent about staying and “keeping Derek company until his hot date arrived”, which translated in “staying with Derek so I can harass him and his hot date”.

And then the bell rang. 

Derek jumped startled, obviously too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings. He refocused back to reality by glaring at his empty couch, before he turned his attention to his door, from where he could hear Stiles’s nervous heartbeat. 

When he opened his door, his breath got caught in his throat. Stiles was absolutely outstanding. He was wearing a black dress up shirt, along with a red bow tie, a fashionable coat and black trousers, skinny enough to tone his muscles and make his legs look long and strong. For once, his hair looked more styled than wild and he hadn’t put on a distinct perfume, making Derek’s inner wolf rumble approvingly. 

“Hey.” Stiles said.

“Hi,” Derek replied just a shy to awkward. “Want to come in?” he added and opened his door a bit more. 

“Nah, I have made a reservation, we should go.” Stiles turned a little and motioned Derek to follow him. Derek grabbed his jacket and quickly locked his door. 

“We are taking my car, just tell me where to drive us.” Derek declared.

“Hell, yeah we are taking your car!” Stiles exclaimed excitedly and then frowned. “Wait, what’s wrong with my car?” 

Derek didn’t reply, he simply unlocked his car, opened the passenger’s door and motioned Stiles to get in. 

Stiles glared up at him and got in. When Derek put his keys in the ignition, Stiles looked at him accusingly. “Roscoe is precious. She may be old, but she is perfect.” He announced. 

“I didn’t argue.” Derek smirked and Stiles narrowed his eyes before relaxing in his seat. “Where to?” Stiles named a restaurant and the address and then proceeded to make himself familiar with Derek’s car.

“The restaurant isn’t too fancy, but it is very nice. I have only been there once; at Lydia’s promotion.” Stiles said after finding a station he liked on the radio.

“I have never been there.” Derek admitted.

“There is always the first time.” Stiles grinned.

The rest of the drive was rather quiet but in a pleasant way. Stiles shared a story every now and then and sometimes mumbled the lines along with the current song playing on the radio.

 

The restaurant itself, looked rather fancy. There was an receptionist just inside of the door and asked them politely if they had a reservation. The interior of the restaurant was beautifully decorated, colours varying from red to gold and to silver and blue in a combination that fit perfectly well. Derek had a feeling everything on the menu would cost at least three times more than it should, just by looking around. 

A waiter led them to a circular table near the back and placed the menus on their table. “It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Stiles asked conversationally, but nervously.

“It looks… expensive.” Derek said. “But in a good way. It’s nice here.” He confirmed. Derek never had a problem with money. In fact, he was raised in a wealthy family and he owned a successful shop. If he wished, he could stop working and still be wealthy for the rest of his life. The fact that he lives in an apartment doesn’t mean anything to him other than simplicity. Unlike his uncle, he was never one to want a personal castle. Also, his apartment was warm and cosy and close to his coffee shop.

He was just unsure if Stiles could afford it. He knew Stiles had a nice job, nice enough to pay his rather high rent and other expenses, but he didn’t want to pick anything too pricey and waste Stiles’s money like that. 

“Is it too much? Is this freaking you out?” Stiles asked in a worried tone and Derek realised he was silently examining the restaurant for more time than socially acceptable.

Derek shook himself. “No, no. It’s perfect.” He assured Stiles. 

“Oh. Okay.”  Stiles returned the smile and looked at his menu. 

The waiter came for their order and Derek was right, this place sold food at prices higher than it probably deserved. At least that was what he thought before he actually tasted it. He immediately took it back; the food was totally worth it. Apparently, that was what Stiles thought too, if his moan in delight was anything to go by. Derek blushed all around just from that sound, but thankfully Stiles didn’t seem to notice his reaction.

 

All in all, their date was really good, definitely on the top 3 Derek had ever been. They conversed about their jobs, their families and friends. Derek found out that Stiles came from Beacon Hills, but moved away when his dad got a promotion. Stiles studied in MIT and left with honours. Moreover, Derek found out some other little facts about him, for example, Stiles loved going to the beach despite almost always getting sunburned for his efforts. Stiles paused his narration every now and then threw another fun fact and then analysing a theory about whatever place his mind travelled, which led him to babble excitedly. Derek didn’t mind, though.

He liked that about Stiles. The way he always looked so informed on anything and the way his eyes sparkled in interest whenever he found a new topic.

Derek didn’t want to leave. 

Stiles paid, he refused to let Derek even think about paying, even though Derek claimed that the coffee he gave Stiles was from _his_ shop and wasn’t nearly as expensive as the food they ate.

Stiles suggested they took a stroll to the closest park before they went home again, and of course, Derek agreed. 

They walked in almost silence, but like the one in the car, it was a comfortable one. At some point, Derek hesitantly reached and grabbed Stiles’s hand. When Stiles hummed in pleasure, Derek relaxed and enjoyed the rest of their walk.

 

When they got back to their apartments, Derek started to feel nervous. What was he supposed to do now? Was he supposed to simply wish Stiles goodnight? Was he supposed to kiss him? Would Stiles think he was going too fast if he kissed him? 

As it turned out, he was worrying over nothing. As they reached their floor, Stiles turned to look at him hopefully for a second before he gently cupped Derek’s face and went for a soft, sweet kiss. Derek returned the kiss without disturbing the initial softness Stiles had put in it.

It was perfect. 

Derek may or may not have lied on his bed that night just smiling goofily at his ceiling for a couple of hours.

 

 

The following weeks were pretty much the same. Stiles visited Derek's coffee shop almost every day in his lunch breaks and they texted almost constantly. Each day, Stiles tasted yet another one cupcake and every time let a moan loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. 

Meanwhile, they had gone to three other dates; one at the local cinema, one at the amusement park and another one in which Stiles decided they should have ice cream even though it was snowing. Derek protested about the last one, but then Stiles pouted and kissed him so he relented.

Kissing Stiles was something Derek deeply enjoyed. They had kissed a lot of times; a few kisses when they met in the hallway before or after work, a few more when Stiles visited Derek's shop and a lot more whenever Erica planted fake mistletoes all around.

On Christmas day, they were apart. Since it was a family holiday, they decided they should spend their day around family members. They did leave town together, though. Stiles and his dad spend the holiday in the McCall residence in Beacon Hills, while Derek's family decided to spend their holidays in their cottage which was located in Beacon Hills preserve. It was awfully convenient.

It wasn't snowing in Beacon Hills, but it was cold. Cold enough to get Stiles to wrap his scarf around his face and make his cheeks rosy. At some point, he took off his gloves to 'use his awesome magic powers' to warm himself a little. Derek simply rolled his eyes at that and wrapped his arm around Stiles's shoulders affectionately. 

On New Year's, Derek met Stiles at a local coffee shop, where the bought some hot chocolate right after midnight. Then, they grabbed a beer or two and headed towards the woods Derek knew so well. They found a beautiful clearing that Derek had found when he was 15 and sat all night talking under the stars. Derek wasn't sure when his life got that sappy.

 

 

When they were back in New York everything returned to normal for Derek. Holidays with his extended family were at the same time exhausting and restful. He always felt safe and content around his pack, but his family could get overwhelming. He was sure it would take him a while to adjust again to living in a city like New York, but he was positive he would manage -he did have Stiles and several pack members around after all.

But despite dating for over two months, he and Stiles hadn't had any kind of sexual intimacy, apart from making out of course. Derek didn't mind the simplicity of their relationship. Sure, he wanted to be more intimate with Stiles, but if slow was what Stiles wanted, then he was willing to go slow for him. 

 

 

One afternoon, they were sprawled on Stiles’s couch watching a movie. Stiles had been feeling a little off, so Derek had decided to cheer his up by watching his favourite movies together. He used his right arm to hug Stiles to his side, while Stiles had comfortably rested his head on Derek’s shoulder. With his spare hand, Derek was tracing some of Stiles’s visible tattoos distractedly.

“You really like my tattoos, huh?” Stiles asked after it was clear that Derek had lost interest in the movie.

“They are… distractive…” Derek said. “And beautiful. I love watching them move, especially when you use your magic.” He shrugged. 

Stiles blushed slightly and smiled. Then his eyes sparkled in a familiar mischievous interest. “Want to see something cool?” Derek hesitantly nodded and Stiles sat up. “Remember what I have told you about my tattoos? They secure my power and connect me to the world around me. Well, they get more… magical. They grow on their own, they change forms or colours. Each one represents something and all of them together make me. My feelings, my experiences and my thoughts.”

Stiles paused and waited for Derek to nod affirmatively to show he understood. “So, here is the thing, I can do a spell which allows me to relive a memory. It’s really cool and awesome. There is a downside, though; I can’t control the memory. It could be anything, from the first time I tried to ride a bike, to making horrible life decisions. Like the one time, Scott convinced me to try the Harry Potter jelly beans. I mean, he said that they couldn’t really taste like vomit right? Let me tell you, I speak out of personal experience, it tastes _exactly_ like vomit. It is truly horrible, I think I ruined my taste buds forever; I can’t eat jelly beans anymore, not even the nice ones.” 

Stiles sighed and shook his head. He flushed when he realised he was babbling again, but he recovered quickly. “Anyway. I can do it, if you want. I could give you a memory. I will probably regret offering later, because, knowing my luck, you are probably going to see some mortifying embarrassing one… but who cares? You have to see the spell!” 

Derek kissed him then, successfully cutting his word-vomit short. “I would like to see it, if you feel comfortable showing me.” He said and smiled in an assuring manner. 

Stiles returned the smile and stood in front of Derek. He chanted something under his breath, in a language which Derek didn’t understand, and then the tattoos visible under his shirt moved towards his open right palm. The colours of Stiles’s tattoos dulled a little as yellow and red seemed to decent his tattoos and steamed up as a small cloud on his palm. When the steam had been steadied, Stiles opened his eyes and studied it. “This is probably an old memory; I can’t ever be sure with all that yellow.” He shrugged and offered his open palm to Derek. “Go on. Touch it.” He said and Derek did.

He was instantly teleported to some kind of playground, judging from the amount of ten-year-olds around him and the slides. When he glanced at his surroundings, he realised he was at a primary school’s yard. His point of view was shifted and he guessed he was supposed to be a younger version of Stiles’s, even though at the same time he felt distant, like he wasn’t really in the body he possessed. 

“Hey, Jackson!” he found himself yelling in a cheerful young voice. Jackson, in response, turned around and simply stared at him. Jackson looked weird. He was obviously the blonde guy Stiles introduced him to Derek months prior, but at the same time he wasn’t. Instead of the sharp jaw line, he had chubby cheeks and a curtain of blond hair. His eyes, though, and his arrogant demeanour were just as Derek remembered.

Jackson looked annoyed. “What do you want?” he demanded. 

“It’s my birthday on Saturday! Mum said I could have a party. I am inviting you!” Stiles exclaimed happily.

“Saturday?” Jackson asked and Stiles nodded gleefully. Jackson turned his attention to his friends then. “Hey! Do you want to come to my house on Saturday?” he shouted loud enough to be heard by everyone in the playground. “You can all come! My house is big and I have video games.” He announced looking at the kids that had started gathering around him and his fellow classmates cheered happily and said they’d ask their parents. 

Jackson smiled in satisfaction and turned his attention back to Stiles. “No one will come to your silly birthday now.” He said.

Stiles’s eyes burned and watered while his stomach rolled uncomfortably at Jackson’s words. “Why?” he asked barely resisting the urge to cry.

“Because no one wants to hang around stupid-Scott and you.” Jackson shrugged unconcernedly. 

“Don’t call Scott that! He is awesome and smarter than you!” Stiles defended his best friend angrily.

Jackson laughed mockingly, a surprising sound for a 10-year-old. “Everyone knows Scott is stupid. Maybe if you weren’t friends, people would come to your party.”

Stiles finally let his tears fall and let out a sob. “Scott is awesome and better than you. You are mean!” Stiles shouted loud enough to alert everyone around him but surprisingly not the teachers.

Before Jackson could snark back an answer, a girl came forward and stared Jackson down. She had piercing green eyes and ginger hair. It took Derek a moment to realise that this was Lydia. 

“I will come to your party, Stiles.” She said simply and smiled at Stiles. Every single kid around them looked surprised. “Of course, everyone else can go to Jackson’s house.” She added glaring around.

In mere seconds, every kid muttered that they wanted to go to Stiles’s party too. Jackson looked furious, but he only muttered something and left without arguing further.

Stiles, though, wasn’t concerned about any of these. His line of sight had focused on one thing, or better yet, one girl. Lydia. For the first time in his life, he really _saw_ her. It was like he suddenly realised how pretty her eyes were, how beautiful and smart she was.

The vision around him blurred and slowly Derek was brought back in reality. It took him a moment to re-adjust back to the present, but when he did, he noticed Stiles sighing and sitting back on the couch. His tattoos seemed to gain colour again and Stiles look a little less energetic than minutes before. 

“That was around the time I realised how much of a dick Jackson was. And the moment I fell in love with Lydia. That was a hell of a crush, really, you have no idea. I was pathetic in high school. It actually took a rabid alpha to get her over, but look how far we have come! She is my 2nd best friend now.” He laughed nervously. 

“Jackson is an ass.” Derek started. “Thank you. For sharing a memory with me.” He added and leant forward to capture Stiles’s mouth in a soft kiss. “The spell was really cool.” He declared when they parted.

Stiles grinned widely. “I know right? I told you! It’s the thing with the stream; it makes everything look awesome-er. Most of my spells only move my tattoos, but this one has a colourful steam, isn’t it amazing?” he rapped excitedly. 

Derek simply kissed him again to stop his potential babbling and accidently started a make out session.

Not that he complained.


	4. Chapter 4

This time, when things got a little heated, Derek was unable to contain himself enough to stop his hips from thrusting against Stiles’s groin. Stiles moaned loudly at the action and pulled back. Derek, sensing the discomfort, he started apologising. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t.” he said and retreated. “I don’t want to push you, just couldn’t contain myself.” He added flushing in embarrassment. 

Stiles looked at him confused. “Wait, what? You are not pushing me.” 

“It’s okay; we don’t have to rush things, Stiles. We can wait until you are ready.” Derek tried to assure him. 

“Wait? For me? Hold up, what are you talking about?” Stiles inquired bemused. 

“I can wait; I don’t want to push you.” Derek admitted slowly. 

“Push me? You mean you haven’t made any moves, apart from kissing of course, because you didn’t want to _push me_?” Stiles looked baffled. 

“Well… yes?” Derek was suddenly unsure and insecure, Stiles seemed astonished and unable to understand, did that mean that he did something wrong?

“Oh my god, really?” Stiles exclaimed throwing his hands in the air in frustration. Now, Derek felt even more uncomfortable, his stomach rolled in discomfort and he felt the need to retreat and run away. 

He stayed silent and looked away not answering to Stiles.

“Wait, no. Don’t be like this,” Stiles assured him as he registered Derek’s uneasiness. “What I mean is that so far, _I_ have been waiting on _you_!” he explained and took Derek’s right hand in his own. 

Derek’s displeasure melted into bewilderment. “Why?” 

“Because you always looked hesitant of anything new in our relationship. I thought it would be better, to let _you_ decide when we would have that kind of intimacy.” Stiles disclosed gently.

Derek looked at him for several seconds. Simultaneously feeling the warmth of Stiles’s words and feeling like an idiot. “So the whole time, you have wanted to have sex with me, but didn’t make any moves because you waited on me, while I was waiting on you because I thought _you_ weren’t ready?” he summed up.

Stiles sighed in defeat. “We are such idiots! Think about all the sex we missed!” he face-palmed himself.

Derek only stared at him putting an expressionless mask, suppressing the urge to laugh.

“Wanna start making up for our lost time?” Stiles smirked and licked his lips seductively. Derek rolled his eyes and kissed him hard.

 

It felt like a door opening. Derek finally allowed himself to do what he had been craving and their kisses turned hotter and hotter and their bodies –finally free of the restraints they had put upon themselves- rocked together in the sweetest way. Derek’s tongue pressed in Stiles’s mouth harder than any other time, his touch turning more sexual, but still gentle. His one hand clenched into a fist at Stiles’s shirt and the other sank lower and cupped Stiles’s ass. That was enough for Stiles to let the loudest and neediest moan Derek had ever heard him utter. The vibration of Stiles’s moan ran through Derek’s body, triggering a reaction from him. He groped Stiles’s ass and pressed their bodies even closer, after letting a moan of his own. 

Soon enough, Stiles started tugging at Derek’s shirt, while mumbling near nonsense on Derek’s mouth. Derek caught a few words and realised Stiles was talking about his abdominal muscles. Derek huffed and broke the kiss just to retreat a little and take his shirt off, with the smoothest move Stiles had ever seen –Derek knew because Stiles told him during his endless chatter of appreciation of Derek’s body.

He went back to kissing Stiles and put his hands under Stiles’s shirt. His hands roamed all around Stiles’s torso hungrily until he pulled back enough to take the shirt completely off. But as soon as he took his shirt off, he didn’t return to the kissing. Derek simply stopped every move in order to stare Stiles’s chest in wonder. 

His tattoos made sense now. They were all connected to a tree -or rather, multiple small trees that created a bigger one- that covered Stiles’s lean torso. It was breathtaking. The colours of his tattoos, seemed in tune with his current mood, as they were warm and dimmer, mostly in pink or red. 

Derek kept staring, until Stiles started shying away from Derek’s scrutinising gaze. When Derek looked back up to Stiles’s face, he met his unsure eyes uncomfortably flickering between his chest and Derek’s face. He was biting his bottom lip nervously and his posture looked self-conscious. And that just… wouldn’t do. 

“You are beautiful.” Derek stated truthfully and kissed Stiles sweetly in an attempt to convey his appreciation and affection. When they parted, Derek traced mindlessly some of his tattoos until, apparently, Stiles had enough of it and attacked Derek’s face with his mouth. He crushed their mouths together hungrily and copied Derek’s earlier ministrations by groping every part of Derek’s torso he could. 

It was not long after that their jeans came off. Derek palmed Stiles’s obvious bulge under his underwear. Stiles’s hips automatically gave a thrust in Derek’s hand and he let a dirty moan at finally getting the friction he needed. With new-found intensity, Stiles sucked on Derek’s tongue harder and lowered his hand on Derek’s groin.

Derek tugged Stiles’s boxers down and took a proper hold on Stiles’s impressive length. Stiles squirmed in the touch and hurried to mimic Derek’s moves. Their kisses had turned sloppier and as soon as Derek was freed by his underwear he pressed their bodies close enough that they touched _everywhere._ He wrapped his hand around both of their cocks and pleasure shot through him in the best way. He wanted to stop and appreciate the feel of Stiles’s skin against his, the way their bodies just _fit_ together, the way his smooth pale tattooed skin came in contrast with Derek’s tanned clear one. He wanted to stop time to capture Stiles’s blissful face, to stop time and relieve what he was feeling forever. But at the same time, he just wanted to turn his moves rougher, to please both his and Stiles’s bodies and seek for the impending orgasm. He wanted to hear more of the noises Stiles made and see what his face is like when he orgasms.

So that’s what he did. He drank on Stiles’s babbling noises and moans, his keens and pleads. He moved his hand up and down in a rhythm that brought pleasure to both of them and lavished Stiles’s neck. 

At some point, Derek caught up on what Stiles was mumbling against his skin. He was talking nonsense about stars and magic, but then, he mentioned something about a second round which included Derek fucking him until he couldn’t walk, and that was all it took. Derek let a particularly loud moan –he was so close, so close- and Stiles placed his hand upon Derek’s and they started moving together in desperate thrusts. 

When Derek came, he swore he saw stars. His orgasm was so intense that he barely registered Stiles following close behind. Needless to say, Derek was pretty sure this was the most satisfying handjob anyone could hope for.

After they caught their breath, they untangled their legs and spread more comfortably on the couch. Stiles curled his body close to Derek’s side, rested his head on his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Derek sighed contently, let his head fall on the couch cushions and hugged Stiles back.

“We should probably clean up.” Stiles said face still smacked against Derek’s chest. Derek hummed in agreement, but neither moved.

Five minutes later, Stiles left the couch with a sigh and came back with a washcloth. Derek helped him clean themselves and then they decided to go to Stiles’s bedroom.

They lied on Stiles’s bed and shared soft kisses and exchanged sweet words until they fell asleep.

 

 

They woke up in a tangled mess and Derek’s alarm blazing. Stiles let an exaggerated displeased groan and rolled away from the sound. He let an adorable sigh and buried his face in the pillows effectively making Derek smile fondly. Derek sat up to reach for his mobile and turned it off. Stiles immediately relaxed again and Derek had a moment to appreciate Stiles’s exposed sleepy form. His long eyelashes rested gently on his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. His back moved his every soft breath and his arms were nestled under the white pillows, contrasting with his tattooed biceps. The sheet was covering up until his shoulder blades, leaving only one-third of his tattoos on his back visible. Once again, Stiles’s tattoos were in sync with his emotions, so they were duller and in a blue-ish hue. Derek almost gave in and pulled the sheet further down to admire said tattoos. He didn’t though. He simply shook his head and leant down enough to kiss softly Stiles’s exposed cheek and got off the bed.

“No… don’t leave.” Stiles whined from his pillow when he felt the shift in the bed.

Derek chuckled. “I have to go to work, Stiles.”

“No… you own the place. You are the boss. You can be late.” Stiles mumbled still not bothering to move.

“And have Erica claw my face off? No thanks. Nice try, though.” Derek laughed. He pulled on his clothes and headed for the kitchen.

The kitchen was surprisingly equipped enough for any kind of breakfast he desired, so Derek decided to settle for some pancakes.

 

It wasn’t too long after that Stiles woke up, obviously rising due to the smell of food and his empty stomach. When he walked in the kitchen, Derek almost missed the pancake he was flipping. Stiles’s hair was sleep ruffled, sticking out in every direction just in the best way, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes half lidded and he was giving Derek a lazy smile. To make it worse, he was wearing sweatpants that were hanging low on his hips. And Derek didn’t know what to do with that this early in the morning. He set the pan back down and opened his arms in invitation. Stiles didn’t waste the time to rush in Derek’s embrace. He slumped his body against Derek’s, buried his head under Derek’s chin and let a content sigh. Derek smiled softly and leant down enough to let a tender kiss on Stiles’s head. Stiles huffed then and raised his head enough to capture Derek’s mouth into a proper kiss.

When they parted, Stiles smiled at Derek humbly. “You made pancakes.” He stated. “They already smell great.”

Derek smiled back and moved away in order to serve the food he made. “I only found honey and chocolate syrup, but if you want, I could fetch some blueberries or something from my apartment.” He offered knowing Stiles was always generous with the toppings on any food.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’m sure it is going to be delicious anyway.” Stiles reassured him sweetly and dove his fork in the food. He let a moan of appreciation when he tasted the pancakes and said “Yeah, I was right. Fucking delicious.”

Derek cleared his throat and croaked a “thanks” while trying to ignore the sounds Stiles was making, because if he paid attention, he would probably not be in time for work.

And that was what he did. He ate his pancakes in silence and pointedly ignored Stiles’s noises. After some minutes, though, it became apparent that Stiles was exaggerating his moans, due to the mischievous looks he shot at Derek every now and then.

Just the second Derek had enough of Stiles’s teasing and let his fork drop, Stiles’s mobile went off. Stiles stopped mid-bite and turned his head slightly to the direction of the obnoxious sound he had elected to use as his ringtone. He let an annoyed groan and set his fork down gently. “You think it’s important?”

“I think you should answer.” Derek shrugged.

Stiles sighed in defeat and got up to look for his phone. Derek smirked and stood up as well to place their plates in the sink. He didn’t pry into Stiles’s call, to give him the privacy he deserved.

Or, at least, he tried. Because before he knew it, Stiles’s heart started racing and he shouted something from the other room. Derek considered staying put and waiting for Stiles to come back, but then again, Stiles sounded really distressed so he had to go to investigate.

“I understand.” Stiles said and disconnected the call. He stayed still and stared at his phone for a few eerily silent seconds. When Derek moved forward, Stiles sensed his movements and finally got back in reality by snapping his gaze on Derek’s face. His eyes had started tearing up, his cheeks were flushed, his jaw was clenched and his lips were set in an unhappy line. Yet, he was still motionless, his eyes staring blankly at Derek.

So Derek approached him slowly, as if he would scare him away if he moved too fast, and drew him into a hug. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. But Stiles didn’t answer. He didn’t even seem to register the question, or the hug for the matter. Derek pulled back a little and gently cupped Stiles’s face. “Stiles?” he asked, his eyes searching his face and pleading for a reaction.

Apparently, that was enough for Stiles to be sparked back to life. “Oh my god.” He whispered in disbelief. Derek didn’t have the time to ask what happened before he was being shoved away. He could barely register the hurt of that action when he realised that Stiles was running up and down all around his house.

Derek stood confused for a second before he comprehended what Stiles was doing. He was getting dressed with frantic movements. “Stiles?” he tried to get his attention, but Stiles was still not responding. Derek elected to follow him around then and call his name.

When he realised that Stiles wasn’t going to reply, he gently took his hand as he was putting his shoes on. “Stiles!” he said louder.

Stiles stopped immediately and looked up. This time, his eyes were not just teary; he was really crying. “I have to go.” He muttered simply and went back on tying his shoelaces.

Derek let a frustrated sound. “What’s wrong?”

“My dad.” He said without raising his gaze but stilling his movements. “There has been an accident, they said. At work.”

“Who is ‘they’? From the hospital?”

“Yes from the hospital! Who else could have called?” Stiles snapped loudly and Derek noticed that his heartbeat was getting erratic again.

“Stiles, please. Just stop for a second.” Derek started.

“Stop? Stop?” Stiles exclaimed. “My dad is at the hospital, Derek! Don’t you understand? Are you that socially impared that you don't even realise what that means?” he added in frustration.

Derek tried to ignore the hurt Stiles’s words caused him. He tried to overlook the betrayal he felt, the way his stomach rolled and his eyes started to burn in the need to cry, and he ignored the urge to lash out. Because he knew, Stiles didn’t really mean it, because he knew Stiles was only snapping at him because he was worried about his dad. Derek didn’t reply to his questions and let him finish tying his laces. He simply grabbed his jacket from the hang behind the front door and handed it to Stiles silently. “Put this on, it’s cold outside.” He stated.

Stiles didn’t seem pleased, though. “How can you be so calm, you-“ he started again but then he stopped himself and shook his head. “Please, just go.”

“No.” Derek stated simply. He was glad he had put on his clothes from the previous day, because he had his keys and his phone in his pockets. “Come on, I’ll drive you.” He announced and got out of the apartment.

Stiles let a frustrated angry sound and smacked the door closed, with way more force than necessary.

 

Derek recognised what he was doing. He was conveying his sadness and worry into frustration and anger, just lashing out on whoever was close and that happened to be Derek. And Derek let him. Because Derek knew what that feels like. Because Derek had been in that position more than once. Because Derek knew that this is a defence mechanism that is going to keep Stiles from collapsing in tears even before they reach the hospital.

 

But, if he was honest, even though he understood, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling hurt from the way Stiles treated him. Because Derek has only treated Stiles with gentleness and because Derek took care of him at his mother’s anniversary, even if Stiles had tried to send him away. Derek had thought that they were together with the whole sense of that. He thought they would go through anything together as long as they were in a relationship. And it was that thought of stability that made Derek latch on Stiles like that. The mere thought of something secure and stable was what made his wolf content and himself calm.

Though, if Stiles’s reaction to something that hurts him is to lash out on Derek, how could Derek feel safe in a relationship like that? Sure, he couldn’t judge Stiles from one bad reaction, especially since they hadn’t fought before, apart from some playful bickering here and there.

But still. Derek’s life was never simple nor was it ever stable, especially when his love life was involved. And that mere thought made Derek want to back off.

However, Derek chose to not dwell on that. He didn’t dwell on it because he knew Stiles needed all the support he could get and Derek was willing to give him whatever he needed.

 

The ride to the hospital was silent, until they had almost reached their destination. Stiles had been jittery and angsty during their trip, but then he sighed and wiped some of his tears away. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I’m sorry. I’m terrible.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Derek tried to assure him.

“No. No, it’s not. I just- I can’t…” he flailed his left arm in frustration and then took a deep breath. “I can’t, Derek. I can’t lose both of my parents.” He whispered. “I’m scared, Derek.”

Derek swore his heart broke a little then. Stiles started crying a bit again but Derek remained silent. He parked close to the entrance and before they had the chance to get out of the car, he took Stiles’s hand in his and squeezed gently. “It’s going to be okay.” He stated and got out, Stiles following him close behind.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The following hours passed in a haze. Time seemed to skip too fast and go too slow at the same time. Derek had called Erica and let her know he couldn’t make it to the coffee shop, but she had full permission to stay off work too, if it became too much. Stiles informed his boss too, in the politest way he could manage.

They spend the rest of their day sat in the waiting room, before the doctor appeared and asked to talk privately to Stiles. Stiles nodded eagerly then and followed him. Derek was simply too worried to not listen in on Stiles’s conversation with the doctor. He didn’t have much knowledge on medical-related issues, but he gathered the basics nonetheless. The Sheriff had been hit in the head –or maybe he hit his head? Derek wasn’t completely sure; he just knew he ended up with a concussion. A bad one. Furthermore, he was stabbed, the wound was, apparently, close enough to his heart to cause major problems, but not close enough to make irreversible damage. Some of his vitals were damaged due to the stabbing and others due to the strain his body had gone through. The doctors had managed to stabilise his condition and stop the internal bleeding.

Stiles almost fainted in relief when he heard that his father was stable and likely to wake up soon, but then tensed up again when the doctor regretfully told him that the concussion was severe enough that they weren’t sure when and if the Sheriff would wake up.

Later, when they moved the Sheriff from to his new temporary room, Stiles was allowed to see him. The nurses, though, were extremely adamant that Stiles was not to stay for more than several minutes. Stiles was displeased, to say the least, but the nurses assured him that he could spend however much time he wants during his father’s scheduled visiting hours the next day.

In the limited time he had, though, he clasped his dad’s hand into his, careful of his IV, and cried while apologising. He promised his dad that everything would be okay and then threatened to kill him if he died with a dry choked laugh. Then the nurse came back and apologetically shooed Stiles’s away by telling him he only had to wait a few more hours before visiting hours. 

So Derek and he spend the night in the waiting room. At some point, Stiles curled his body around Derek’s and Derek massaged his back soothingly. Stiles fidgeted and shed a few more stray tears, due to emotional wrecking ball that he had been most of his day, until his movements slowed down, his breathing evened and he soon fell into an exhausted deep sleep.

When Derek was sure Stiles was asleep, he pulled his jacket off and covered Stiles’s upper body with it, because he knows Stiles always gets cold when he sleeps. Then, he followed his example and fell asleep on the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting room.

 

Derek drifted back to consciousness because someone was yelling. “What do you mean you don’t know?” was the first thing he heard.

“I mean that I don’t know!” another male voice stressed and sounded like he had been trying to convince person number one of that for some time now.

Derek opened his eyes and found himself curled around his body while lying on two chairs. His jacket was covering his right shoulder and he had his knees pulled up close to his chest. A few meters away stood Stiles along with a deputy. They were in the middle of an argument and Stiles was chewing at his nails. His shoulders were slumped and his body tense.

“How can you _not know?_ You were there!” Stiles shouted louder and Derek sat up in sudden alertness. The room was filled with the scent of Stiles’s anxiety, his bitterness, disappointment and sadness. Altogether, Derek realised that Stiles’s heartbeat had started racing as his breathing was getting rushed in angry pants.

“You need to calm down. Like I told you, we split up, I heard your dad yelling and when I ran back he was unconscious.” The deputy told him –almost- patiently.

Derek was almost certain that Stiles would rip his hair out of his head due to his frustration. His visible tattoos were glowing in a dark red, nearly purple hue and for a second Derek was worried someone would notice. Stiles, though, stopped arguing then. He closed his eyes and took several deep calming breaths. “Okay. Okay, thank you.” He said and immediately turned around to go back to sit with his boyfriend. The officer soon beds them their farewells apologetically and leaves.

“You know… it all makes sense now.” Stiles started after a few beats of silence. “Why I have been feeling off. My magic was warning me and I wasn’t listening!” he explained. “I should have listened.” He pulled his knees up and put his head in his arms. “I’m such a fucking idiot!” he whispered and Derek could already smell the salty scent of Stiles’s upcoming tears.

Derek in reply, hugged Stiles to his side with one arm and with the other he petted Stiles’s head the way his mother used to do when he was upset. It worked a little; Stiles’s body lost some of its tension. “Don’t think about that now.” He said softly. “Your dad is strong. He will wake up, you will see.”

“You don’t understand.” Stiles said and shrugged Derek off. “I can’t. I have to do something.” He straightened up. “I am going out to clear my head.” He whispered and left.

Derek watched him go in sadness. He sighed and forced himself to ignore the way his heart clenched uncomfortably in hurt with Stiles’s clear dismissal. Because, truth is, Derek did understand. He knew the feeling of loss. He knew how it felt to have someone taken away just like that. He knew how it felt to know that he could do nothing to save a loved one from ending up at the hospital. He knew what hurt and grief felt like. He knew what _guilt_ felt like. He didn’t try to convince Stiles, though. He knew he should let him deal with his emotions first and he didn’t want to confuse him. Stiles did need to clear his head. To think clearly.

 

Derek didn’t see Stiles for the next four hours.

Somehow, he had fallen asleep again. It shouldn’t surprise him, between those uncomfortable chairs, the constant buzz of the machines and the overwhelming scent of hospital, he wasn't able to get nearly as much rest as he needed the previous night. He awoke, though, when he sensed a movement. Immediately, he was hyper aware of Stiles’s scent, or better, lack thereof. His scent was different, dulled with the faint touch of magic. “Where were you?” he asked and made a move to sit up.

Stiles placed his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.” He said so soothingly that Derek almost did go back to sleep.

He shook himself. “Stiles. What’s going on? Where did you go?”

“Nowhere.” Stiles said and though his heart didn’t _actually_ skip Derek was positive he was lying. Stiles smiled at him and Derek was getting worried because this was the fakest, most forced smile that had ever graced Stiles’s face.

Derek sighed in defeat and changed the subject. “The doctor said that there is no news on your father’s condition.”

Stiles visibly clenched his jaw, but his smile didn’t flatter. “I know.” He stated and sat next to Derek. “It’s early. Don’t you have to go to work?”

Derek frowned. “I told you, I called Erica, she will either take over my shifts or keep the café closed for the day. I want to be here for you.”

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Stiles asked after a small pause.

“I want to.” Derek admitted truthfully.

Then, Stiles’s posture flattered and for a moment, however little, the calm demeanour that he had seemingly forced on himself faded away. He caught himself, though; he collected himself and didn’t reply. He simply looked away.

 

By the end of the following day, Derek had gone home to eat, take a shower and sleep on a proper bed. He texted Stiles before he fell asleep and right after he woke up. 

Derek couldn’t help but notice that Stiles had started acting weird around him. His answers were always short and quick, like he was forcing himself to talk to Derek. He didn’t reply to his calls and always kept using the same excuse that he couldn’t hear his phone ringing, a big fat lie, if you ask Derek, because Stiles always answered on the first ring normally.

The worst, though? Stiles _disappeared._ The following days, Derek barely caught his scent in the hallway outside of his apartment, he didn’t call at all and didn’t bother to answer to Derek either. He hardly sent any reassuring messages to Derek and the information Derek knew about the Sheriff’s well-being was limited. He never invited Derek back at the hospital, despite all the hints Derek dropped on the subject. Stiles even flat out ignored Erica’s attempts at contacting him.

Derek understood that he was going through a tough time because his father was injured, but at the same time, he hoped he could help him out in his time of need.

But Stiles remained away. Distant. Unreachable.

And Derek _tried._ He really did. But to no avail.

This went on for a month.

At first, Derek was thinking he was doing well by giving Stiles the space to deal with what was going on in his life. At first, he was treating him with patience, gentleness and understanding.

But enough is enough.

He needed to know what Stiles was doing. _How_ Stiles was doing.

Was he taking proper care of himself? Was he guilty? Did he eat? Did he sleep?

Texting just wasn’t enough.

So he decided. He would stay awake and wait.

So that was what he did. He stayed awake and he waited. 

 

 

It was a quarter to midnight when Stiles got in his apartment. Derek listened to him move around closely and didn’t fail to notice that Stiles moved differently than what Derek was used to. He was more focused than Derek thought he could ever be and… _quiet_. So quiet it was unevening.

After several minutes of listening in, Derek realised that Stiles wasn’t getting ready to sleep, quite the opposite actually, he was collecting some things. Shortly after, he quietly opened his front door and headed to the elevator.

When Derek was sure Stiles was ahead of him but within earshot, he started following him. He reminded himself to be extra careful, subtle and carefully follow him in order to avoid any unfortunate situations.

Stiles made firm steps and took determined turns as if he knew exactly where he was heading. Derek wasn’t so sure of their destination, though. He was soon lost in the alleys and streets but kept following Stiles anyway. At some point, Stiles stopped walking and muttered under his breath something incomprehensible and Derek was almost sure it was another language.

Then he went on again. After some time of walking, what seemed like hours but was probably closer fifteen minutes, Stiles halted and Derek abruptly realised that he had been too close to him.

_Shit._

Derek didn’t have any time to think anything else other than that, before he was smacked to the wall behind him from an invisible strength. His back cracked and the back of his head started throbbing immediately.

“I know you are there. Who are you and what do you want?” Stiles demanded while turning to face him, voice cold like ice and gaze sharp as a blade.

Derek realised, that in the dark, Stiles was unable to recognise him. He inched closer and Derek took a better look at him. Stiles looked simultaneously weak and dangerous. His posture was stiff, looking stressed and tired but at the same time, he was standing as if he was ready for a battle. He had prominent dark circles under his red eyes and hollow cheeks. He looked like he had marginally lost weight since Derek last saw him, if he were to judge by the way his bones slightly stood out on his bare arms. His skin was almost too pale, too fragile. It made his tattoos stick out.

Stiles once told Derek that his tattoos were tuned with his emotions. Then, his tattoos had been pleasantly coloured, with pretty colours and soft edges. Now, they were sharp, ominous. The colours they possessed were either furious crimson like blood, anger and pain, or vivid green with a toxic and poisonous vibe, or purely black. Like death. In addition, his once gentle, soft, full of life eyes, now looked empty, void of emotion, harsh and completely emotionless.

All in all, he looked as if he could either kill everyone in a 10-mile radius with a single movement, or fall unconscious if the wind blew on him too hard. It terrified Derek.

When Stiles was close enough to make out Derek’s silhouette and most of his face, his murderous facade almost slipped off before his face hardened even more than before. “Of course.” He said and laughed humourlessly, a hideous cracking sound. “Of course you would do that too.”

“Stiles-“ Derek started to say.

“No! You have no right. What did I ever do to you? Huh? What did I do to deserve this?” Stiles said angrily and extended his right arm with his palm up. “I don’t even know you, why do you do that?” he yelled in frustration and his open palm lighted up until he created a seemingly yellow vibrant fireball. 

“What are you talking-“ Derek tried again but was interrupted again.

“You fucking shut up!” Stiles shouted and unleashed the fireball at Derek’s direction. Derek easily dodged it and raised his hands, in the universal sign of coming in peace, to show him that he means no harm.

“Stiles wait. I don’t know what you are talking about!” Derek managed to get out in a yell.

“Don’t try to play games with me!” Stiles shouted. “How did you even know, you asshole!” he questioned with another fireball, which Derek managed to dodge too.

“Stiles!” Derek roared and partly shifted, letting his eyes glow in demand, like his mother does to get his attention when he used to stubbornly do something wrong. Stiles deflated and blinked, losing his concentration and thus the new fireball he was about to throw. “I am Derek and I have no idea what you are talking about.” Derek tried to assure him.

Apparently, Stiles’s shock was short lived. His face flared in anger and this time he threw a, honest to god, thunderbolt in Derek's direction. “Don’t patronise me!”

Derek found it more difficult to dodge that one, due to having Stiles move closer, and a small part of his bicep got burnt. He hissed in pain and clumped the hurt part in his free hand, because minor injury or not, it still hurt. “Stiles.” he grit out and looked up at Stiles’s eyes hopefully. “Please stop, it’s me. Derek.”

Stiles opened up both his palm and extended them at the height of his chest looking at Derek both apologetically and furiously. “Tell me one reason to not get you get roasted.” He demanded darkly, seemingly hesitating at burning someone alive, but at the same time too furious to hold back.

“Why would you- I am Derek, Stiles, please, trust me.” Derek pleaded as he was caged between the wall and Stiles’s magic. Up until that moment, Derek never thought he could be afraid of Stiles, but right then, he was sincerely scared for him and of him.

“That’s what exactly what someone who pretended to be you would say.” Stiles tilted his head and raised his arms threateningly.

“You told me that you could ‘sense energies’ several months ago. What do you sense Stiles?” Derek asked desperately.

Stiles was taken aback by the comment and seemed to think about it. “Doesn’t matter what I sense, shifter. As far I know you could change your aura.” He snapped.

Derek quickly tried to think of something –anything really- that Stiles told him that no one would know. When he couldn’t remember anything specific, he just started talking, telling Stiles anything that came in his mind. “The day when you got yourself locked out of your apartment that I offered to take you in, I made you soup. The recipe that my mum taught me. You said you loved it and that your mum was a great cook. You said she had her own recipe book, one you tried every recipe on. You were shy about your cooking skills and I offered to teach you. When you first came in my coffee shop you ate the best chocolate cake filled with caramel and hazelnut cream and Nutella icing cupcake. You compared it to Melissa’s cupcakes. You said and I quote it was ‘a piece of art’.” Derek smiled fondly at the memory despite being in a life or death situation. “You asked me on a date –our first date- and we went to that fancy restaurant Lydia made you go when she got a promotion. You told me all sort of things that night. You told me you loved the beach, you secretly own a poster of Louis Tomlinson from when you were a teenager and still listened One Direction and that it is still hanging on the inside of your closet. You said you own all the Fall out Boy albums and that the first video game you ever loved was called ‘Sacred’. You love the chocolate and strawberry flavoured ice cream and that you still have a worn out red hoodie which your grandma had bought for you when you were 13, but you have grown to fit in it like it is supposed to when you were 17.”  Derek stopped to take a deep breath and looked in Stiles’s again. “When we got home, you kissed me softly and then I didn’t stop smiling all night. It was the best damn date I have ever been to.” He admitted while his eyes watered up at the reminder of how sad his life had been before Stiles and how much it had brightened up after he marched into his life.

Stiles’s eyes were glistering too as he was holding back tears. He lowered his hands and let the magic dissipate. “Derek?” he asked looking both fearful and hopeful.

“It’s me.” Derek said and opened his arms in an invitation. Stiles broke then. He rushed in the embrace and melted in Derek’s hands.

“Oh my god.” Stiles whispered. “I’m so sorry.” He said over and over again.

“It’s okay.” Derek told him and made shooting sounds, more animal than human, and hugged Stiles tightly to his chest.

Stiles truly sobbed then.  “I’m sorry- oh my god- I shot you! Several times. Oh god.”  He said and tried to pull away but Derek ensured his grip and continued shooting him and telling him it was okay.

It didn’t work, though, Stiles kept muttering about hurting him and then his heartbeat got erratic. “Damn it.” Derek muttered when Stiles’s almost stopped breathing and worked himself in a fully blown panic attack.

Derek recognised it for what it was because Isaac used to have panic attacks when he first met him. When Isaac had his attacks he always told Derek to not hold him, because he felt like he was suffocating and he advised him to somehow show him his breathing pattern.

So that was what he did. He released Stiles’s trembling fragile form from his vice tight grip and held his hand in his chest. He took deep slow breaths to help Stiles regulate his heartbeat again.

It was a long and exhausting process for Stiles. At first, it didn’t seem to work and he momentary panicked, even more, turning his wide pleading eyes in Derek’s silently asking for support. But slowly he worked it out.

When he finally calmed down, he almost passed out on Derek. So Derek picked him up bridal style and followed their scents back to where they came from. Stiles didn’t protest that he was being carried around and he fell into an exhausted sleep in Derek’s arms.

When they arrived, Derek got them to his house and laid him down on his bed. He carefully tucked him in, threw another blanket at him to make sure he won’t get cold at night and sat in the armchair next to the bed in order to watch over him.

Unsurprisingly, he too fell asleep half an hour later.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter includes non-consensual drug use, kidnapping and threats of sexual harassment.

The next morning, Derek, thankfully, woke up before Stiles. He scolded himself for falling asleep like that when he still hadn’t sorted things with Stiles and decided that he should prepare breakfast. If Stiles’s weak body was anything to go by, Derek could bet that Stiles was underfeeding himself and that won’t do. Derek was going to make him the fattiest and most nutritious breakfast he has ever eaten.

He decided upon making bacon and eggs along with peanut butter sandwiches. On second thoughts, he chose several fruits and made a fruit salad along with the homemade juice. There. Then again, the table was lacking on milk and cereal, which of course meant that Derek must find those pieces and add them to the overloaded table as well. When he was pleased with the outcome, he made himself a cup of coffee, went back to his bedroom and patiently waited for Stiles to wake up. 

Stiles was already stiffening in his sleep, a tell-tale sign of waking up. He made a huffing sound and lazily rubbed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, he looked around in confusion before his eyes caught Derek and he tensed. He slowly sat up just as Derek turned around and left the room. He headed back to the kitchen and sat in his usual chair, waiting for Stiles to do the same. 

Stiles walked in the kitchen with an unsure expression. “Good morning.” He said almost shyly.

“Hey.” Derek replied and motioned at the table. 

Stiles looked at all the food in wonder smirked and he looked ready to sass Derek by the amount of food he had on the table, before he caught himself. His smirk slipped off as quickly as it had appeared and he sat in the chair furthest from Derek with his head down. He dug in his food slowly and soundlessly, a clear contrast with the last time Derek made him breakfast.

“Are you mad at me?” Stiles asked after several minutes. 

Derek remained expressionless. “For what?” 

Stiles bit his bottom lip nervously. “For lashing out on you. For ignoring you?” he counted. 

“I am not mad, Stiles.” Derek said honestly. “I am hurt.” He sighed and that was probably worse than Stiles expected because he tensed even further, he cast his eyes at his hands on his lap and his scent turned so sour and miserable it itched Derek’s nose. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

Derek stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to meet his gaze, but Stiles continued looking at his lap. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Derek.” Stiles admitted. “All I ever wanted was to protect you.” 

“Protect me from what?” Derek asked but was met with silence. He sighed. “Stiles!” 

Stiles startled and looked straight at Derek’s eyes with a terrified glint. “I don’t think I-“

“Bullshit!” Derek called suddenly too done with Stiles’s reluctance to talk. “Tell me one good reason why you have been acting that way.” He demanded. 

Stiles made himself look smaller and looked away. “I’m sorry.” He said lowly. “I’m sorry, Der. I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” 

Derek rubbed his face. “What does that mean?” 

“I don’t…” Stiles bit his lip tensely. 

“For the love of God, just spill it!” Derek ordered.

“It’s a skinwalker! There is a skinwalker that attacked my dad and he keeps walking around with faces of people I love and he- he attacked _Scott_! Der, please, you need to stay away!” Stiles yelled frantically while flailing his arm around a little. 

Derek’s brain had to do a small reboot in order to reply. “No.” he decided.

Stiles blinked at him. “No? What do you mean ‘no’?” he asked anxiously.

“It means I am not staying away. It means that you stop ignoring me and it means that you are telling me more about this skinwalker.” Derek clarified.

Stiles looked at the same time ready to melt into goo or have an aneurysm. He sighed and took a deep breath before he said a soft “okay”.

 

And that's what they did. Stiles told Derek that because of his magic, he knew that his father's assaulter was not human, so the first night, when he disappeared, he went to investigate the crime scene. What he found was some sort of thick pinkish substance that made his magic tingle uncomfortably. The following days, Stiles simply took it upon himself to start tracking the mysterious creature. One day, though, it attacked Scott and severely injured him while wearing Stiles's own face. After that incident, Stiles started looking frantically. Hours of research led him to be positive that the creature in question was, in fact, a skinwalker. Which also explained the weird gooey substance that caused Stiles's magic to go crazy.

Derek listened to him talking silently, not interrupting, just taking all the new information in. After he was done, Derek drew him in a hug and made him a hot chocolate drink. They drank in silence and then Derek urged Stiles to his bed. He gave him an extra blanket just for comfort and they ended up cuddling all night long.

The following day, Derek and Stiles visited the sheriff. Stiles was still too upset to do much of anything, so they spent their morning watching the sleeping form of Stiles’s father until a nurse shooed them to give him medication.

Then, they planned. Derek made Stiles tell his pack about his suspicions about the skinwalker while Derek called his mother. Talia Hale, being one the most famous werewolf among the supernatural population, had a lot of support, respect and knowledge. Which is why Derek asked her to help him research.

After hours of reading, researching and calling several people with supernatural knowledge, they were able to judge that not only skinwalkers were extremely rare, but also that there are two types of them. Depending on where they come from, they had different abilities.

The first type of skinwalker is basically a witch with an expertise in shapeshifting. The witches are mostly prone to shift into animals, but there is a loop that enables them to shift into humans too. This type of skinwalker can be defeated by using a weapon which contains silver along with a specific poison called _Cerbera odollam_ . One must pierce the customised weapon right in the shifter’s heart.

The second type of skinwalkers is a supernatural creature with the inability to keep their natural form. They are prone to gather too much energy that can only be expelled while shifting. If said energy is ignored, their body ages and thus, they tend to take other people’s form to keep their bodies young. To shift into someone else, they need skin-on-skin contact, which explains why this is the most dangerous type of skinwalker, as they need to shift to survive. To kill this type of skinwalker, one must force them to shift into their true form and kill them with –unsurprisingly- silver.

Derek and Stiles agreed upon creating a weapon that could kill both types as soon as possible. Stiles made a few phone calls to order the poison and ordered a silver knife online.

Meanwhile, Talia Hale met the Alpha of New York in order to approve of her stay in his territory and either let her deal with the skinwalker herself, or help her do it. Scott, having an almost permanent permission to do what he wants in the city, since he had studied in NYU and as his mate is still working on her postgraduate degree at the same university, was already trying to convince Alpha Jonson to hear Talia out and help them.

Stiles had temporarily moved in Derek’s house, because he had gone on a full overprotective mode and didn’t want him alone at any time. Derek always tried to take care of Stiles, which both made Stiles frustrated, because he was feeling that Derek was pressuring him too much, and relieved, because Derek was providing everything for him.

They woke up every morning an hour before visiting hours started, visited the still comatose-Sheriff and then planned some more until too late at night.

They still had no idea who the skinwalker was and why it had attacked the sheriff and Scott. 

Stiles was getting more and more anxious as the days passed and it was getting more and more difficult for Derek to keep him calm and collected. He did everything he could to reassure and relax him, but nothing worked for more than several minutes. 

Days went by like this. No updates, no sightings on the skinwalker and no changes in the Sheriff’s condition. 

 

One morning, Derek left before Stiles woke up to go grocery shopping. He was loading the bags in his car, when he heard his name being called. He turned to the direction of the sound and his eyes fell upon Scott’s excited face.

“Hey, man!” Scott exclaimed cheerfully. 

“Scott,” Derek said and frowned. “I thought you were on a shift.” He added as Scott inched closer. 

“You know, man, break and all. I got hungry.” Scott smiled. 

“Oh.” That explains why Scott is only holding a bag. “But the hospital you work at isn’t close to this store.” He said suspiciously just as Scott moved. He was too startled to react before he felt something pierce the side of his neck. 

He barely had enough time to raise his hand instinctively to his throat before the needle was removed and he awkwardly patted his skin. “What?” he looked at Scott feeling dazed.

Scott didn’t have his usual joyful smile on, instead, he wore a manic grin and loosely held an empty needle. Derek’s eyes flashed upon the sight and snarled. “What was that?” he demanded even though he was already feeling lightheaded enough to feel disoriented.

“You will find out soon.” Scott said as Derek’s vision gained black spots.

“What did you do?” he asked through his clenched fangs. He didn’t have time for a reply, though, before his knees gave out and his vision blackened completely. 

Last thing he saw before everything went black, was the blurry form of Scott kneeling over him.

 

 

When he became aware of his surroundings, Derek felt cold. He instinctively shivered and tried to curl in on himself, but his movements were restricted. He frowned and opened his eyes. He found himself on the floor of a bare room. The walls, the floor and even the ceiling were made out of some sort of stone.

The room was not small. It was as big as the playroom in his old house, which was saying something since his family owned a _mansion._ There were no windows or air vents, the only way in and out being the door at the wall opposite to the one Derek was leaning on and the only source of light was a small dull light bud on the wall right next to the door.

Derek's wrists were bound together by a pair of cuffs that were linked with a small chain. The material of the cuffs was not exactly leather but it was strong and heavy.  He couldn't move around his hands too much, because the cuff was so tight they rubbed on his skin in a burning throbbing way that made Derek realise that they were wolfsbane infused. A bigger chain linked his wrists to his also bound ankles. The bounds of his legs were metallic and heavy. A third chain kept his legs close to a stake on the wall beside him, effectively restraining him.

Derek decided to sit up, but doing so he got lightheaded and his vision swam uncomfortably. He could barely raise his hands to the height of his head to gently take his throbbing skull in the warm safety of his palms. The movement made the cuffs rub into his raw wrists and he instantly felt nauseous.

He tried to keep completely still to avoid experiencing the same feelings, and he managed, until the door snapped open so suddenly that he flinched hard enough to knock his head against the wall behind him. He hissed under his breath as a cheerful voice rang “Look who is awake!”

Derek eyed the newcomer warningly. He looked around 25 years old, he had light brown hair, a pair of pale blue eyes and a hint of stubble. His face was not remarkable, but he looked oddly familiar as he stood tall in front of Derek wearing a black jacket, boots and a black Henley. “Who are you?” Derek asked.

The man let an exaggerated sigh. “The fact that you don't even know who I am makes me want to kill you even more.” he said angrily. Derek only looked at him with a confused look. Was he supposed to know this guy? Why would a stranger kidnap him?

The man inched closer and kneeled in front of him. “Derek Hale. 29 years old, raised in Beacon Hills by one of the largest and wealthiest werewolf families.” he declared. “I know so much about you. Someone made it difficult not to.” he said and smirked. “I am Matt. Hi. I would say 'nice to meet you' but that isn't exactly true, is it?”

When Derek simply stared at him, Matt looked almost disappointed. “You still don't recognise me?” At Derek's still stoic look he frowned. “That's too bad.” he sighed. “I am a web designer. Basically, I do most of the work on photos and stuff like that. You know, I always wanted to be a photographer, but, you can see that it didn't work out, since I am not hired by companies to photograph models. It's okay, though, I made peace with it when I met some people in my workplace. Some really nice, _beautiful_ people.” he added conversationally.

Then it clicked. “You work with Stiles.” Derek concluded.

“There you go!” Matt exclaimed excitedly. “We met once, remember? Well, we didn't exactly meet, I waved at Stiles and as soon as I was 10 feet away you asked Stiles who I was and remember what he said? 'It's just Matt.'” Matt quoted. “ _Just Matt!_ Can you believe that?” Matt spat angrily. “You are a werewolf, an animal-”

“You are a skinwalker.” Derek countered annoyed.

Matt completely bypassed the comment and went on. “I never understood what he found in you, you are a senseless bloodthirsty mutt. I guess your appearance was enough.”

“Says the skinwalker who almost killed his father.” Derek retorted.

This time, Matt didn't ignore his comment. “ _I am the best for him_!”  he shouted. “He should have chosen me! What do you have, huh? True irony is that when I managed to ask him out he turned me down saying he was busy. Next thing I know, he is out on a date with _you_ , barely 3 days later, at the restaurant my mother works.” Matt shook his head in a disappointed manner. “And then you actually got together. Now, I was patient. I gave him some time to realise his mistake, but you still went strong.”  he sighed dramatically. “Such a shame. I really, _really_ , liked him. But you know, how does it go? If I can't have him no one can? Yeah. That's it.” 

Derek shifted in his bounds and Matt tsked and held up 3 fingers.

“So, starting with his father,” he lowered the middle finger “then with his best friend” he lowered his thump, “and then his _boyfriend._ ” He said turning his index finger like a gun point to Derek's face in disgust. “I used his face to lure his father away from the other officers and then heartlessly stabbed him, that much you know. I made sure to not kill him, though. I needed him alive, in case he left you, I could bring him back, then he would love me forever. That was why I kept sneaking in looking like an ordinary nurse, in order to sedate the Sheriff. His coma is 100% medically inducted. He even woke up once, I'll have you know. But luckily I was there.” he smirked. “Anyway. I found out that you still hadn't broken up, but the little shit started looking for me. So he needed another punishment. I followed his best friend. When he was alone, I used Stiles's face to make him comfortable and then hit him. It would be enough to kill him, but I didn't know McCall was a werewolf. I suspected, sure, but I didn't know. I was prepared, though, I had a little bit of wolfsbane in my pocket.” Matt added and his grin grew even wider making Derek's stomach roll at the display of insanity.

Derek growled as a response and Matt let a sadistic laugh. Then, he stood and paced around the room in content. “Now, what should I do to you? Lucky for you, I can get really creative.” he declared and started to undress, making Derek even more alert and cautious. “Did you know that I know all the hunter tricks? Wolfsbane, electricity, _fire_. You must be well-acquainted with those, am I right?” Matt  said as he kept only his boxers on. He kneeled once more in front of Derek, let his clothes to his side and then cupped his face roughly, nails digging into Dere's cheeks. 

Derek trashed at the harsh treatment and tried to get away. He snarled angrily and Matt shot him a cruel glare. “No, no, you are not going anywhere. Don't even bother, really, you are only making it worse for yourself by letting your wounded wrists rub on the wolfsbane.” Derek only snapped his teeth at him. “I would love to stay and play, but first I need to do something.” he said and before Derek's eyes, he started shifting.

It was an ugly process. His skin seemed to melt off and peel back together in a darker complexion. His eyes closed and reshaped into narrower green ones. Stubble grew and his hair turned black. The hands on Derek's face tingled and grew firmer, leaving behind a gooey substance. His shoulders boiled up and revealed a bigger, musclier type.

Derek was both horrified to the point that he was nauseous and hypnotised at the alteration. It wasn't long before he was looking back at his own face and to his own body.

Matt turned his eyes to the goo that had fallen off during his shift in distaste. He sighed in resentment. “I hate when that happens.” he pouted. “Anyway.” he said and sat back stretching his newly reshaped arms a little. “Like I said, I have something to take care off.” he winked at Derek and inched closer. “I have always wondered if he is as vocal as normally during sex.” he said and put his mouth right next to Derek's ear. “I wonder how he sounds as I fuck him.” he whispered. 

Derek trashed and snarled furiously, his growl of outrange echoed loudly in the room. The mere thought of Matt _touching_ Stiles made Derek want to go on a killing spree. But his desperate attempts to free himself and tear Matt apart were useless as Matt quickly moved back and out of reach.

“No, don't be like that. I will make sure he enjoys it.” Matt smirked at Derek's flashing eyes and shifted face. Derek's only reply was a loudest growl which only made Matt laugh as if he was enjoying the display.

Before Derek could react, Matt moved and materialised a teaser from his discarded clothes and quickly swiped it at him. The electricity hit him like thunder.

He was completely unable to move, suddenly his whole body too heavy. He had to make an extensive effort to hold onto consciousness by holding his eyes open.

“Whoops. Did I set it on the highest point? Silly me.” Matt announced ruthlessly.

That was the last thing Derek heard before his head smashed against the hard floor.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes graphic violence and graphic character death. (But there is also a lot of fluff yay)
> 
> Note: I actually know nothing about business schools or NYU, and the website is a little complicated, so I went for a safe option for Derek's studies?

Derek woke up feeling dazed. A shiver rushed through him and he experienced a strange feeling of déjà vu. He shifted slowly, the memory of his last attempt to move as soon as he awoke still too fresh. He sat up and gently rested his pounding head on the cold stone before he cautiously opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. 

He found out that he was still in the empty room Matt had left him when he was last conscious. He then found out that while he was still restrained, he was severely underdressed. Quite literally. He was missing his jacket, jeans, socks and shoes. He only had his shirt and boxers on, a fact that made him feel even more vulnerable than before. He shifted uncomfortably on the hard floor and looked around to find something to occupy himself with, but there was nothing in the bare room.

So he sat there thinking about the last words Matt told him and his rage grew. He wanted to break free. He wanted to hunt Matt down and rip him apart for even considering harming or taking advantage of Stiles. 

But when he tried to come up with effective plans to actually do what he wanted, he turned up empty-handed. Even his attempts to free his hands or legs were infertile. There was simply no way he could escape without cutting off his hands and feet. He would rather not do so, because even in his desperate moment he could realise that this was a terrible idea, if the bleeding wouldn’t kill him, then the wolfsbane would.

Said poison was already in his veins, though. He could feel it working itself in his body. He could even recognise it, this particular type of wolfsbane was popular among hunters due to its ability to severely weaken a werewolf but not spoil their kill. He even knew that if a werewolf was to be exposed to it for too long they could fall in a comma.

So, he knew it wouldn’t really kill him, but the thought of letting it in his bloodstream and causing himself to weaken to the point that he won’t be able to protect Stiles grounded him and made him stop wiggling into the bounds.

After that, he settled with doing the best he could under said circumstances. He waited.

 

 

He didn’t know how much time passed before the door was ripped open. Derek’s eyes snapped at the action and tried quickly to adjust on the new source of light which was removed again not more than 30 seconds since its arrival. He found himself looking at a blonde woman rushing in. She had her hair in a messy ponytail and she wore ridiculously oversized very dirty clothes. She had bright blue eyes and a thin figure, but otherwise, she was not overly pretty. Her lips looked too thin on her face and her nose too sharp.

She looked around frantically and rushed towards Derek. She -or better yet, _Matt_ \- started muttering something along the lines of “Stupid slut couldn’t even do one thing right” and “we could have been happy”. Then, he produced a syringe out of nowhere and pointed towards Derek’s neck. Derek immediately starting thrashing and snarling, instinctively trying to move away from the impending danger, but he was weak and slow due to the poison in his bloodstream.

“Stop it, you mutt!” Matt yelled and grabbed with his free hand Derek’s face to keep him still. “It will not kill you, but it will sure make it easier for me to deal with you.” He declared and pushed the syringe in the side of Derek’s neck.

Derek, along with the tiny sting of the needle in his neck, felt the drug rush in his system. It felt like acid spreading in his veins, a feel that transformed into discomfort, as he got nauseous and he could feel a migraine coming on. Matt paid him no mind and went to the side of the room. He removed a brick from the wall and revealed a bag. He searched its insides until he pulled out a pile of clothing. He began stripping and Derek got the urge to look away for the sake of the poor girl’s dignity whose appearance Matt decided to claim. But he couldn’t muster enough energy actually do so, so he stared at Matt while he took off his dirtied clothes, and put on a bra and a baggy dress along with sneakers.

“Tell me, Derek, do you know how hard it is to change? It is essential, most of the time, but it takes a lot of energy. See, to stop irrational shifting, our bodies use this as a defence mechanism of sorts. I already shifted 4 times today. I could probably shift once more but then we wouldn’t be able to get away, would we?” he ranted as he took something more out of the bag, and then put the bag on his shoulders. “Now, has the drug worked?” he asked and came closer to Derek to inspect him.

Derek wasn’t sure how the drug was supposed to work, but he was already feeling dizzy and tired, as if all his strength was kissing him goodbye. Matt grabbed his face and smirked when Derek paled at the rough treatment. “Guess it did. Now, let’s-“ he began but then the door was once more ripped open.

Derek winced at the sudden light and the screeching sound of the abused door smacking on the wall. In a flash, he felt something solid and metallic nudge his head. A gun, he deduced, before his attention shifted to the figure which rushed in and held some kind of light bulb? Whatever it was, it was too harsh for his eyes and he felt like the sudden brightness could blind him. He hissed and tried to shift away, but Matt took ahold of his head to keep him still. “Stop!” Matt yelled and Derek wasn’t sure if he was talking to the new-comer or to him.

The light dissipated then, effectively making Derek able to blink a few times before he was finally able to make out who entered the room. When he recognised the person, he was startled. He had never seen Stiles this furious before. Not even the night he followed him.

He was standing his full height and his posture was both stiff and challenging. His mouth was a thin line and his eyes full of hearted. Derek, apart from being able to _smell_ his rage, he was able to _feel_ it, like it was pulsing and filling the room with its presence.

At the sight of him, Derek felt conflicted. He was both incredibly relieved and terribly anxious. Relieved, because he could see Stiles was okay and seemingly unharmed, plus he might have a chance to escape. Anxious, because _Stiles was there_ facing immediate danger with a look of defiance and Derek couldn’t _protect him._ Unthinkably, he let a small whimper. He wasn’t sure how he would react if Stiles got hurt.

“Get away from my mate.” Stiles growled in a way that put Derek a born werewolf to shame.

Wait a minute. Rewind. His what?

Before Derek was able to process what he had just heard, he saw his mother, Peter, Laura and Scott rush in, standing behind enraged Stiles.

“Get out!” Matt roared. “Get out all of you, or I shoot him! This gun full of wolfsbane bullets will go straight through his head.” He stated evenly meaning every word.

Derek heard his mother gasp and after a moment's worth of thought, she dropped her threatening stance and nodded at her pack members to follow suit before she retreated closer to the door. Scott copied her reaction, but Stiles stayed still.

“Why?” he asked. “Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

“Why? _Why_? Because I loved you and instead you chose this piece of shit!” Matt replied angrily.

“But I don’t even know who you are!” Stiles yelled in frustration.

“Of course you don’t. To you, I am ‘Just Matt’.”

“ _Matt_?” Stiles repeated seemingly stunned.

“Why? Am I not good enough for you?” Matt spat and his grip almost tightened at the gun trigger.

“No, no. Quite the opposite.” Stiles said and relaxed his posture. “I didn’t know you liked me.” He maintained and blinked slowly and innocently, like he did whenever he tried to convince Derek he hadn’t done something.

His lie was heard among the wolves, but Matt didn’t seem to notice, as his posture deflated a little bit. “But… but I asked you out! I asked to take you to that movie you liked, but you rejected me and went out with _him_.” Matt said in a way that it conveyed how he felt about Derek.

“What? But Matt, I thought you were joking!” Stiles said slowly and pouted widening his eyes. “If I knew you were serious I would have accepted. I want you too, Matt” Stiles purred flirtatiously while batting his eyes.

Derek -despite being able to recognise his lie- felt like his heart was breaking in pieces at the confession. The echo of Stiles’s words making his wolf whine and his stomach clench.

“You are lying.” Matt decided.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Matt! I do want you, I just wasn’t sure whether you liked me back.” Stiles admitted while looking away shyly.

Matt scoffed. “Do you think I am an idiot?”

“Of course no, Matt, you are one of the smartest people I know!”

“Liar! Then why did you decide to date him?”

“Because I wasn’t sure. I just wanted someone to take my mind off you, I just wanted a distraction. Why would I want to be with a _wolf_?” Stiles questioned seemingly disgusted by the idea of being in a relationship with a werewolf.

“You are lying!” Matt repeated in disbelief. 

“I am not! I can prove it to you!” Stiles claimed.

Matt froze and narrowed his eyes. “How?”

“If I kissed you right now, would you believe me?” Stiles asked amorously.

Matt seemed to think about the offer. “Do it.” He decided.

Stiles took careful steps closer to Matt, until he was at arm’s reach. He made a move to lean in but he stopped when his face was only a few inches away from Matt’s face. “Matt. Can you maybe… shift? I want to kiss _you_ not some strange girl.” He said and worried his lip between his teeth. “Please, Matt?”

Matt looked conflicted at first, but at the ‘please’ he gave in and started to change. His shoulders filled and his body grew more masculine, to the point that the dress looked like a slightly oversized shirt on him. Stiles kept his eyes trained on Matt’s face the whole time. Not flinching or showing any signs of disgust at the display of the horrendous transition.

 “Thank you.” Stiles said and leant to kiss him. Matt enthusiastically leant closer too, while cupping Stiles’s cheek with his free hand and loosening his vice tight hold on the gun. When their lips touched, Matt lowered the gun as he pushed his weight towards Stiles to make the kiss harsher.

In an instant, Stiles kicked the gun out of Matt’s hold with a swift moved and stabbed him over his heart with the knife he had made especially for the occasion. The gun fell on Derek’s lap and Derek quickly moved it under his thighs to seal it away from the attention.

Matt was looking stunned at Stiles’s face. “You tricked me.” He realised looking utterly betrayed.

“No one messes with the people I love.” Stiles stated firmly.

Matt roared in outrage at his defeat and used the last bits of his strength to rip the knife out of his chest and slash at Stiles’s side, right below his ribs. He didn’t have much time to do anything else before he collapsed. His body smacked the ground with an empty echoing sound as the knife fell right next to Stiles’s feet with a ‘clack’ in the now quiet room.  A pool of blood began to gather around Matt’s dead body as he had fallen stomach down on the floor.

Stiles watched him for a few seconds with a blank expression, his own shirt darkening with the blood of the wound Matt planted on his torso. Then he crouched down to retrieve the knife just as Peter came to Derek’s line of vision. He slashed through his bounds with his bare claws, not minding that he came into close contact with the poison as he freed him off his bounds. When he was done, he hugged him firmly, while scenting him in the process. His mother and Laura inched closer to do the same, but Derek had no time for reassurance and he shrugged them off. Instead, he passed through them and reached Stiles, who was still crouching on the floor holding the knife and staring at Matt’s lifeless eyes.

Derek placed his left hand on Stiles’s right shoulder and covered with his right Stiles’s right hand which was clenching the knife. “Hey,” he whispered in his ear in a shooting manner.

Stiles’s grip on the knife loosened to the point that it fell on the floor again, the loud sound echoing in the room. “I killed him, Der.” Stiles muttered so lowly that if Derek weren’t a werewolf, he would have missed it.

“Stiles.” He said and drew him into a hug. “We are okay.” He assured him and that was probably all Stiles needed before he let a sob.

“Oh God! I was so scared, Derek! You weren’t there when I woke up and your note said you went grocery shopping but you didn’t come home, not even to visit dad. I was so worried and when you came back, when I saw you in the living room, I knew it wasn’t you and I got more scared! It was wrong, it was so wrong I was terrified. I am so glad you are okay, I don’t know what I would do without you, I love you.” Stiles ranted through sobs, snot and tears.

Derek soothed him through his aimless babbling the whole time. “It’s okay.” He had said. “I love you too.”

 

 

Laura made Derek and Stiles get away from the crime scene, as Talia, Peter and Scott ‘took care of it’. Derek fussed over Stiles’s wound, while Stiles refused to pay attention or go to the hospital, and instead worried about Derek getting some rest because his body was still full of the poison plus whatever Matt had inserted to him. 

Back at Derek’s apartment, Stiles disappeared in the bathroom with a change of clothes and a first aid kit, while Derek laid down on his bed, effectively letting his body heal as Laura prepare some late dinner/early breakfast.

When Stiles appeared again, he nuzzled on Derek’s chest and started filling him in. He said that when he realised that something was terribly wrong, Talia, Laura and Peter along with Scott decided to settle to Derek’s apartment in order to be prepared once they find out where Derek has disappeared to. Around midnight, Matt had appeared in Stiles’s living room while wearing Derek’s face. Stiles was not fooled, though. His aura was all wrong but familiar nonetheless. When Matt leant and kissed him, Stiles’s magic flared in outrage at the wrongness of the feel, while his mind protested that this wasn’t Derek, Derek didn’t walk like this, Derek didn’t kiss like this. So he acted instinctively, he lashed out with a fireball that hit Matt straight to his chest. Matt took off and Stiles, along with the alarmed werewolves hot on his heels. He followed the aura around town until he reached the warehouse where he kept Derek.

When he was done, Derek informed Stiles of what Matt had confided in him, along with the news about the Sheriff’s condition. The last part made Stiles both outraged and happy as he now knew that Matt skipped a dose, which meant that the Sheriff would wake up soon enough.

After that conversation, Derek and Stiles decided to settle under the covers and let their eyes slip close for sleep take them.

Derek was sure Laura had been eavesdropping so she would let everyone know what was going on, so he relaxed and hugged Stiles close to his chest thankful for the close contact with a pack member.

Which arose questions.

Like the part that Stiles isn’t actually part of his pack, even though he always felt like he was.

And the fact that Stiles had called him his mate. Is that what they were? It would be a pretty good explanation. But as far as Derek was aware, he didn’t have a mate, he wasn’t supposed to. Mates are supposed to work in a ‘love at first sight’ way. That was not the case here, was it? And besides, Derek had been in love before, if he had a mate then he wouldn’t be able to, right? He would be like Laura, always defiant about relationships and romantic love until she met her mate. Or he would be like great-aunt May, who never had a mate, yet lived a happy long life with her husband.

All those thoughts circled his mind and kept him awake for a few hours before his body eventually gave up and slapped Derek’s stubbornness back to his face as it fell into a deep sleep mid thought.

 

The next day they woke up earlier than they wanted. Derek’s mum worried around them all day going into the state Laura likes to call ‘protective/caring Alpha mode’ which means she provides for everything and everything while still maintaining straight-faced and authoritative.

Half an hour before visiting hours began, they left for the hospital to check upon the Sheriff. When they got to his room he was unconscious, which both saddened and worried Stiles even if Derek assured him that the drug probably needs to wear off and that it should be okay.

Derek was right it seemed, as 3 hours later the Sheriff blinked at his son and his boyfriend -whom he still hadn’t _officially_ met by the way- having a heated debate on whether it is the lights or the colours on the walls that make a hospital depressing. He actually had to snort at a particularly lame argument Stiles tried to persuade Derek of.

Stiles had immediately froze and then proceeded to hug his father to death. Derek felt like he was an intruder in the family moment, so he moved backwards, closer to the door, trying to make himself invisible.

Stiles was ranting to his dad about what had happened and what he had missed, when he noticed that Derek had srinked away. He had stop mid-sentence and rolled his eyes. “What do you think you are doing? Come here.” He had said.

What else could Derek do? He walked again to the bed shyly.

Stiles noticed, because of course he did, and he grabbed Derek’s shoulder. “Dad, this is Derek. That was unnecessary, you have already met him since I was sick. But, what I mean is that he is Derek and he is my boyfriend!”

Derek’s cheeks turned red under the scrutiny. “I have indeed met him before. There is no need for introductions. How are you, Derek?” The Sheriff asked.

“I am fine, sir.” Derek replied stiffly, unsure if the Sheriff approved of their relationship.

“Good. Because as soon as I am out of this place we are having a proper dinner. And like I said before, call me John, son.” The Sheriff, no _John_ , said.

Derek was out of words so instead, he let a small smile grace his face. Then, the tension completely dissipated from the air and Stiles went on rambling, but this time, he stuck on all the nice things.

 

When they went home, they contently napped the rest of their day.

Derek’s family returned home 2 days later and then everything went back to normal. Derek worked normal hours at the café, something that Erica was entirely thankful of. Stiles had to work extra hard for everything he missed and to impress his boss to the point where he wouldn’t frown every time Stiles appeared.

Everything returned to normal.

Well, almost.

There was still one thing that was different, the fact that since Stiles called Derek his mate, Derek had not been able to let it go, nor actually ask Stiles about it.

He knew his mum had noticed from the way she kept talking to Derek. If he was honest, he would admit that she had always talked to him like that since he first talked to her about Stiles, but he preferred to chalk that up to her being thankful he decided to initiate a relationship (even if he wasn’t the one to _initiate_ it).

It was all Derek thought when he turned off the lights at night.

It was apparent that Stiles had noticed something was different. Derek knew because sometimes he caught him staring. It was his calculating face, the one he used whenever something was testing his intelligence.

Derek knew he knew but he couldn’t bring himself to actually talk about it. Because truth is he doesn’t want to be let down. Up until that moment, he was sure he didn’t have a mate. He didn’t deserve on anyway. But now? Now, that having a mate is a possibility, he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. He can stop _hoping_ that Stiles is his mate.

So if Stiles wasn’t serious then that would take him back to the start. And he didn’t want that. He wanted to believe. He wanted to keep up with it just a little bit more, until they absolutely have to talk about it.

 

Five days after he woke up, John was released from the hospital, good as new. Stiles had offered to stay with him to be able to know if something went wrong, but the Sheriff flat out refused. He didn’t refuse, though, to Stiles’s not-so-subtle hinting that maybe it was high time he retired. By the next day he decided to take care of it, a fact that made Stiles delighted.

Derek on the other hand, was not that thrilled. Don’t get him wrong, of course, he wanted Stiles’s dad healthy and safe, but along with that piece of news, came the invitation to said father’s house for dinner.

The least to say, Derek wasn’t happy, well that’s a lie, he was happy that he was actually meeting to actually talk with the father of the man he loved, but he was mostly nervous. Nervous as hell. He knew he shouldn’t be, John and he were already on first name basis after all, but he couldn’t help but worry. His partner’s parental blessing and respect was something Derek deeply craved.

Stiles texted him the address and the time the morning of the day that their dinner was supposed to take place. Stiles told him to not bring anything, but Derek didn’t care, he wanted to make a good 1st impression –or was it 3rd impression? Whatever it didn’t matter. So Derek devoted the morning of his day off to baking. At first, he thought about cooking the cupcakes Stiles loved, but then he remembered Stiles ranting about how he had put his dad on a strict healthy diet and Derek didn’t want to be the one to break it. He decided upon making a healthy cake. 

Initially, he thought about making the one they usually sell to the coffee shop, the chocolate cake with their special Chocolate and Orange Sauce, but then he came up with the other best option; the frozen raspberry cake. He hadn’t made that in a while, especially since the delicacy was mostly a summer treat, and because that one held secrets that his grandma had taught him, making rectulnat on putting yet another recipe Grandma taught him on display.

Derek wasn’t the one to do something drastically. So upon waking up he started on the cake. He made the ice cream himself, because Grandma always told him the best tastes, are the raw ones, the ones you make yourself. Derek trusts Grandma’s advice on just about everything, so he always makes most of his ingredients rather than buy them.

The whole cake took him 8 hours to perfect, which meant he had 2 solid hours to rest and get ready. Derek decided to nap for an hour and when he woke up, he put on the clothes that he had already planned to wear when he was waiting for the ice cream to freeze. It was his best black trousers, his nice shoes and the maroon button up. He spent some minutes in front of his mirror trying to get his hair just perfect and then he took his keys as he was ready to go.

He was in his car on 6:30 and the dinner was supposed to start on 7:00. That meant that Derek had more than enough time to actually find the house _and_ panic in his car. The last part wasn’t in the plan, but it will find its way to him anyway, he was sure.

He was at the doorstep on 6:55 and worrying whether he should wait another 5 minutes or just ring the doorbell. Thankfully, the decision was taken from him when he felt a hand on his back and his nostrils filled with Stiles’s scent. “Hey.” Stiles said and kissed him gently. “What are you doing out here, staring at the door, the dinner is supposed to be inside.” He said when they parted.

Derek blushed and chuckled a little before shoving his face in Stiles’s neck to calm his nerves. What? Stiles’s scent was always soothing, no one can blame him for that.

“Don’t be like that grumpy! You don’t have to worry, my dad already likes you.” Stiles said as he put his key into the lock.

“I’m not grumpy.” Derek said and frowned.

“Sure you are not.” Stiles winked at him and opened the door to let him in. He led the way to the kitchen and shouted “Hey dad! Look who I found!”

John sighed and greeted both of them. Derek handed him the cake and told him to better put it in the freezer. Stiles told Derek to sit while he helped his dad lay the table. The menu had salad and lasagna. At the revelation, Stiles playfully loudly had whispered to Derek that lasagna and steak were basically all his dad could make without making a total mess of the kitchen.

“Hey!” John had protested as he smacked Stiles’s head with the ladle he was holding.

 

The evening passed pleasantly. John asked Derek about his studies and about his work. He seemed pleased to know that Derek had studied Managment in the NYU, but fascinated to know more about Derek’s coffee shop and the _legendary_ cupcakes that Stiles spent a solid hour talking about. Derek had assured him it wasn’t anything too great but Stiles right out ordered his dad to bring out the delicacy Derek made for that night, just to prove that Derek was ‘the best cook in this the next and all the other galaxies’.

“So, how long have you two been together?” John asked when their laughter died down.

“Uh… about 4 months.” Stiles replied cautiously.

John hummed at the piece of information. “You two care greatly about each other.” The ex-Sheriff deduced. “So… do you plan ahead?”

Derek’s brows frowned in curiosity as Stiles exclaimed a “Dad!”.

“No, it is a legit question. Is this serious? As I see it, you are 25 and he is 29, and given the _situation_ , you might want to start thinking about this stuff.”

At that, Derek’s eyebrows shot to his hairline as Stiles blushed and said “Don’t you think it is a little early,”

“I think you are both mature enough.” John interrupted.

“ _to talk about these stuff with you?”_ Stiles continued shooting his dad a meaningful glance that Derek didn’t understand. John seemed to know what Stiles meant, though.

“Oh. Right.” He said and Stiles groaned.

“Change of subject! About the raspberry cake... How about he finally try it?” Stiles inserted, effectively taking Derek out of the world of thought he had momentarily slipped into.

“Sounds good.” Derek agreed and John served them a piece of cake.

 

All in all, it was a great night. When it was time to leave, Derek left alone as Stiles wanted to spend the night with his dad. And that was okay, Derek bid them farewells and went back to his apartment.

If he spent the whole night thinking about what John said about settling down, then no one had to know.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes fluff, very mild angst and explicit sexual content.

The next day was Saturday, which meant that while Derek had work, Stiles had his day off. Derek had woken up early to relieve Erica a little and headed to the shop. Since it was 7 am on a Saturday, the customers were next to none, so Derek decided upon baking fresh delicacies. He had his guard low, sure no one would enter without him realising anyway, when he felt a hand on his waist. He was so startled he jumped while pouring flour, which obviously had an after-effect of instead of just pouring flour into the bowl, he poured it in the whole kitchen.

Derek turned to find the intruder and he met Stiles’s amused face.

Stiles laughed loudly. “Did I actually just sneak up on you?” he asked fondly.

“No.” Derek refused to admit blushing.

“I so did!” Stiles exclaimed and leant in to kiss Derek’s nose. “Don’t be like this, Grumpy, getting old makes your senses lesser, it’s only natural.” He teased.

“Har har.” Derek mocked and growled at Stiles’s laughter at that. He returned to the task at hand and cleaned a part of the counter he was working on.

“Come on, I’m only joking and you know it.” Stiles said and purposely sat on the spot Derek had cleaned while gently nudging the bowl away. “What are you making?”

Derek just got back to work. “Cupcakes.”

Stiles swung his legs childishly. “What kind of cupcakes?”

Derek chuckled. “The best kind.”

Stiles hummed and let him concentrate.

An hour later Derek sensed Erica. She ripped the door open and squealed as soon as she saw Stiles. “I missed you baby!” she shouted and dragged Stiles in a hug. She clearly squeezed a sound out of Stiles, a soft ‘oomph’, and she drew back just in time for him to draw a deep breath. “Mumkin and I were so worried when you stopped replied to my texts.” She pouted.

“I’m sorry I worried you, I missed you too, Erica” Stiles admitted.

“Of course you are! Everyone misses me.” She decided and ignored Derek’s “Don’t be so sure.” comment.

Stiles smiled at her and then they fell into an easy conversation.

Around midday, at Derek’s lunch break, Erica shooed them and claimed that she ‘definitely got it’ especially since Isaac was due to come in an hour. She winked at them and wished them to have a date that would make her proud.

They decided upon going to a diner close to the shop.

After they ate Stiles spoke up. “I’m sorry if my dad made you uncomfortable yesterday.”

“It’s okay, he was great.” Derek assured him stiffly.

“No, I mean, I know we haven’t talked about some things but I had told him something I had found out and I think he thought you knew, I’m sorry.” Stiles babbled.

Derek was unsure of how to reply, so instead he went for the clueless act. “I am not sure I know what you are talking about.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I thought… nevermind.” Stiles shook his head, even though he was clearly suppressing what he wanted to say as he curled his arms around his torso.

Derek didn’t like it when Stiles felt like he couldn’t talk to him, didn’t like it when Stiles withdrew, it made his stomach clench in uneasiness. So he frowned and asked “What is it? You know you can always talk to me, right?”

“I know… I just…” he started and took a deep breath. “I know, okay? I know and I waited for you to tell me but you never did, so I started to worry that you weren’t really into it as I was even thought I knew you couldn’t, because, come on, I am not that _naïve_ , I have done my research. But then you provided and cared and did the scent thing and you didn’t mind that I wasn’t part of your pack, so I thought you waited for the best moment, but then you got kidnapped! And I shouted at Matt, and then told you I loved you and you still didn’t tell me. I know and I respect you have had issues with your previous relationships, so I didn’t want to push you, but I feel unsure and _I can’t_!” Stiles blurted out.

Derek had to look at him for a moment to try grasp what Stiles was talking about, but he found himself even more confused. Besides, he was pretty sure, even if he knew what Stiles was talking about, he wouldn’t be able to understand due to the lack of thought Stiles put between the sentences. “Slow down, know about what?”

Stiles bit his lip nervously. “I know I am your mate.” He disclosed slowly. Derek flinched back at the admission. He was shocked more than anything, but Stiles took it as a sign of indifference and he made a move to stand up. “I’m sorry –I shouldn’t…” he muttered

Before he could really stand, though, Derek’s hand shot to grab his bicep. “Wait!” he said urgently enough to make Stiles pause and sit back down. “How?”

“How what? How did I know?” At Derek’s silent nod he went on. “I knew wolves have mates, when Scott got bitten, I researched everything about werewolves and mating was no exception. I read that before the actual mating, bonding, sex and everything, the wolves just know. They find the scent of their mate enticing and they feel comfortable around them. I think I knew since you took care of me while I was sick, when you told me that despite being a member of another pack, it didn’t bother you at all that I was nested in your house. Plus you’d always sniff around me sneakily, even when I was supposed to not know you were a werewolf. And apparently, the energy a werewolf mate of a mage gives off is slightly different than normal. At first, I was just too curious so I always happened to be around you to figure out what was different.” He responded truthfully.

Derek nodded slowly and looked away. “I didn’t know.” He whispered.

“I know, I just admitted it.” Stiles sighed

Derek shook his head “No, I mean I didn’t know you were my mate.” he explained.

“What? How?” Stiles asked flowing, obviously believing that to werewolves knowing when they see their mate is instinctual, something that Derek used to think too.

“I didn’t-“ Derek said and rubbed his face. “I didn’t know I had a mate. I wasn’t supposed to, but-“

“What do you mean you weren’t supposed to?” Stiles cut in frowning. “I thought all werewolves have mates, some never meet them, but there is always one for everyone.”

“No, not really, sometimes, they just don’t. My aunt didn’t, it’s no big deal. I suppose it has to do with all the factors, like death and all that, if your mate dies before you meet them, then even walking all around the world you will return home empty handed.” Derek shrugged. “Since I didn’t meet mine even after all the relationships I was in, and since I did love someone before, I thought that was it. I hoped… but I figured I didn’t deserve one anyway.” He declared, but lowered significantly his voice at the last sentence.

Stiles didn’t seem impressed, quite the contrary, he looked irritated. “What are you talking about? Firstly, mates have nothing to do with past relationships, and you can still love someone else. Even having a mate can’t erase basic feelings, Derek. Romantically liking someone is mostly a side effect of attraction and the human need to start relationships.” He waited for a second to see if Derek has anything to say before continuing. “And what the hell you mean by ‘don’t deserve one’?”

Derek shifted awkwardly in his seat. “My relationships up until now, haven’t been exactly successful. I just thought I would end up alone.” He said lowly ad shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

Stiles wouldn’t have any of it, though. “Are you listening to yourself? Quite your self-loathing, you are an incredible human who deserves nothing but happiness.” Stiles declared as he smacked his hand lightly on the table. “If I have to remind you every goddamn day for the rest of your life, don’t doubt that I won’t.”

The declaration startled both of them to silence. “I love you.” was the first thing that came to Derek’s mind, and before he could catch himself he had already said it.

Stiles softened and he smiled.

“Did you mean it?” Derek asked before Stiles could say anything else.

“Did I mean what?”

“That you would remind me every day. Did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

Derek smiled and immediately called the waitress over for the check. He sent a text to Erica to let her know he wouldn’t return and took Stiles’s hand to get out.

When he didn’t turn the right way for the shop Stiles asked where they were going and Derek just kissed him in reply.

They walked aimlessly for a while before Stiles spoke up again. “No really, where are we going?”

Derek shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I am with you.”

And really it didn’t matter, he had his boyfriend- no his _mate_ \- with him and that was all he could hope for.

Now that both Stiles and Derek knew and confirmed that they were mates, they decided to give it three days of thought to be sure that being with each other for the rest of their lives was a sane and wise decision.

It wasn’t easy for Derek to stay away from him. After finding out about Stiles actually being his mate, he was hyper aware of that fact. His wolf was whining for its mate while his human side argued that he should let Stiles make a rational decision.

Three days later found them at the restaurant they went on their first day. Stiles had decided that he truly did want to be Derek’s mate and he reasoned that the best place to talk about it was the place they first went to.

The night was great, the food was amazing and the atmosphere was romantic. It was all they needed. Unlike the last time, though, instead of going into different apartments, they headed to Derek’s. They had already begun a make out session since they took the elevator so they had no problems getting in the mood.

As soon as they stepped into Derek’s apartment, Derek pinned Stiles to the inside of his door and they shared a bruising passionate kiss. Stiles had his arms around Derek’s neck, as Derek had his around Stiles’s waist. As the kiss went on, Derek’s hands wondered lower until they could cup Stiles’s butt. Stiles moaned into the kiss and Derek smirked into his mouth as he squeezed the globes in order to hear Stiles’s squeal at the action. Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s neck for support and Derek took it as a chance to haul Stiles’s up, supporting him with his hands under his bottom. Stiles let a surprised moan and put his legs around Derek’s waist, making their erections rub in all the best ways.

The both let similar groans at the action and with one last pining kiss, Derek pushed them both away from the wall and headed to the bedroom without stopping kissing Stiles. He laid him gently on the bed and crawled above him.

Stiles broke the kiss by tilting his head up. Not that Derek cared, because suddenly he had a pale neck to latch on and ravish. Inside, his wolf was howling in glee at the acceptance of his mate and that just made him suck harder on the fragile skin.

“That” Stiles started as he took deep breaths “was the hottest thing ever.” He declared and grabbed Derek’s head to distract him from his apparent fixation on his throat. Derek hummed in the kiss but kept mindlessly tugging at Stiles’s collar, trying to get more skin to latch on.

Stiles, though, didn’t seem in any hurry to remove his shirt even if he was mildly tugging at Derek’s. So Derek did the next best thing. He broke the close contact and sat up to take off his shirt in the most seducing way he could manage. Stiles sat up too then, to touch at Derek’s newly exposed skin and continue the broken kiss.

Derek hummed at the kiss and tried to tug Stiles’s shirt up, but his hands found resistance as Stiles covered his hands with his own, effectively stopping him from moving at all. The reaction was that shocking, that Derek froze completely for several seconds. He withdrew from the kiss and frowned at Stiles. Stiles, on the other hand, for once he didn’t seem too keen to talk and he just stared at Derek with a pained look.

“What is wrong?” Derek asked cautiously, not knowing if something was going on or if he was the one to do something that made Stiles uncomfortable.

Stiles took his hands away and moved back a little to put some space between them.

“You can talk to me.” Derek said trying to reach out, but once again Stiles withdrew. “What’s wrong, Stiles?” he pleaded.

“Remember the wound I had on my side from Matt?” He asked softly. At Derek’s nod, he went on. “I… most of the time I heal my own wounds, that is why I have no scars, but… I didn’t treat it like I should because I thought I could heal it, but it didn’t heal right. Partly because I didn’t tend to it immediately and partly because of the blade. I guess it was after all made to harm witches.” He said and chuckled humourlessly. “It is fine now, the wound is closed and all, but it left a scar.”

“It’s okay, Stiles, I-“

“No, you don’t understand!” Stiles exclaimed. “It’s hideous, and when my tattoos shift it breaks the pattern. It’s ugly.”

Derek was silent for a short while. “Let me see.” When Stiles was about to protest he added pleadingly, “Please, I just want to make sure you are okay.”

Stiles carefully and slowly took his shirt off, mildly hiding his left side from view. He took a deep breath and then he shyly turned his body exposing the scar to Derek.

Said scar wasn’t as awful as Stiles made it sound. It was red and raw, but it looked like a normal scar from a knife injury. The tattoos around it seemed disturbed, though. The colours in a 5cm radius were dulled and the tattoo itself looked as if it had broken around the scar. It wasn’t ugly really, it was… peculiar. It made him look strong and dangerous but at the same time soft and fragile. It made him look alive. It was something that made Derek even fonder of Stiles for some reason.

Stiles shifted uncomfortably under the attention and that was enough for Derek to snap out of his daze. “There you saw. Can I put my shirt on now, please?” Stiles asked quietly.

“No.” Derek decided. “You don’t need to because it is not ugly, it’s different in a way that makes you, you.” Derek explained. “I told you before that you are beautiful, a scar isn’t going to change that, quite the contrary, it makes you seem strong. Thinking of it as ugly is underrating yourself. Thinking of it as ugly is amiss. Scars can be beautiful too. Yours is absolutely beauteous. It’s part of you, so it is part of a masterpiece.”

Stiles didn’t reply, he just embraced Derek and kissed him softly. “I love you.”

This time, their kisses were softer and gentler. Even when things got heated and desperation settled, their movements stayed slow, gentle, loving. When their jeans and underwear flew off and they were finally completely naked, Derek shared one last kiss with Stiles before he reached for his nightstand. He retrieved a bottle of lube and moved back to his position between Stiles’s legs.

He lubed up his fingers and looked at Stiles’s face for affirmation before he gently nudged Stiles’s hole with a finger. Stiles moaned loudly at the contact and pushed back. Derek took it as permission and pushed his finger gently in. He leaned and started mouthing at Stiles’s chest as he continued with his ministrations on his lower body. Stiles seemed pleased by the attention, if his groan was anything to go by.

Derek was generous with the lube and his touches were soft and measured, to not hurt Stiles in any way. His mouth followed the tattoos on Stiles’s chest and then proceeded to pay strict attention to Stiles’s nipples which, apparently, were extremely sensitive.

By the time Derek had already three fingers in him, Stiles had enough. He pushed at Derek and urged him to _‘just get in him already’_.

Derek had chuckled as if he would care to stay like this, but he, himself was already aching for some friction on his cock.

He kissed Stiles firmly as he took himself in his hands and positioned it in Stiles’s hole. Stiles groaned at the delay and pushed back. “Just do it!”

And like that Derek started pushing in. He went slowly, Stiles was too tight, and on the one hand, he was afraid this would end too soon for him, while on the other he worried about hurting Stiles.

Stiles didn’t seem to agree, as, before Derek could really breathe when he finally pushed all the way in, he was already pushing back at Derek, urging him to move.

Derek pushed back out slowly, torturously for Stiles –at least that was what he was muttering under his breath- and then pushed back in sharply. Stiles made a pleased but surprised sound and wrapped his legs even tighter around Derek’s waist, the heels of his feet pushing at Derek’s butt.

Derek kept the pace on for a while before Stiles demanding that he moved _faster_ , _harder_ , and _come on, Derek, don’t hold back on me_. It wasn’t like could ever tell him, no, so he complied, and his thrusts became faster, harder, stronger.

Stiles seemed to be trying desperately for something to hold on, but in the end, he decided that wrapping his arms once again around Derek’s neck was the best choice. He had his mouth open on Derek’s shoulder and Derek could feel the vibrations of his shuttering moans and groans. When he was closing to the edge, he felt something shift. For one, he felt sensitive where he was connecting with Stiles, and secondly, he felt the overwhelming need to bite and mark and claim.

Their heartbeats were so loud in the -otherwise silent- apartment that they felt deafening in the best way. And Derek couldn’t hold up anymore.

With one final thrust, he howled and bit Stiles’s neck with blunt human teeth and came so hard his vision actually turned white. He was aware that something was happening but he couldn’t focus on anything but the overpowering pleasure that ran through his veins.

When he became aware of his surroundings the first thing he realised how he could feel Stiles. He was one hundred percent aware of Stiles and his emotions. The second thing he realised was how he could not only feel Stiles’s discomfort, but also hear him complaining in his ear. The third thing he noticed was that there was something wrong down there.

He startled and flinched a little. The action sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, but through the bond, he could feel Stiles’s pain. “I’m sorry!” he said.

“No shit.” Stiles muttered grumpily, obviously struggling to analyse the situation. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a knot?”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Derek apologised feeling shame creep in his tone. Knotting was not something to take lightly, he knew that.

Stiles sighed. “It’s okay, I know… can you just… not crush me?” he asked. “I am already uncomfortable enough with your expanded dick in my - _poorly prepared for it_ \- hole and the cooling cum on my stomach.”

Derek rearranged them so that Stiles could be on top while being careful not to jostle him too much. Stiles sighed and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder, while Derek traced the tattoos on Stiles’s back with his hands and kissed the bite mark he had left on Stiles’s neck.

“How long until the knot goes down?” Stiles asked sleepily after a few heartbeats of silence.

“I have no idea.” Derek responded truthfully.

Stiles yawned. “You’ve got time?”

Derek smiled at the ceiling. “My whole life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this :D

**Author's Note:**

>  [tumblr.](http://lokiofasgcrd.tumblr.com/)


End file.
